“Where are we going now?” Luke asks.
I turn the van around to put the smoldering ruins behind us. “Now,” I say, “we’re going home.”
Chapter 44: Ander
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask. It’s only been a few weeks since the night we escaped the fire at Crosswood Gates, the night I bit Naomi and turned her into a werewolf. That’s not a lot of time to think about a decision as big as this. “You don’t have to make a choice now, you know. There’s still the saferoom. You could ride out one full moon, see what you’re up against…”
Naomi shakes her head, making Grimm hop. Her red-gold braids rustle against her coat. “I can’t.”
“Well, give it a day, then. A couple more hours. Just so you can catch some of the ceremony. It would mean a lot to them.”
Naomi shuts her eyes. I can tell it pains her to leave us, especially tonight. I can see the warm lights of her house through the trees, smell the yeasty scent of bread. The sound of laughter drifts to us on the wind.
But Naomi has her back to the house. Her eyes are on the woods. “It’s now or never for me, Ander. The spell will have more chance of succeeding if I cast it now, at sunset on the winter solstice.”
“Sure. That makes sense.” I have no way to know if it does, but it sounds witchy enough to be true. Or maybe Naomi just wants to get this over with, before she has time to lose her nerve. Well, I can certainly understand that. “Okay,” I say. “Let’s talk through it one more time.”
Naomi takes a deep breath. “It’s simple, really. The spell will change me into a wolf—not a lycanthrope monster wolf, just an ordinary wolf. I’ll stay in that form for a year and a day. If I turn human again at the end of that time, I will have paid my dues. I’ll have a full year and a day to be human. I won’t have to turn on the full moon for all that time.”
“If you turn human again.” I try to say it gently, but there’s really no nice way to say it.
Naomi bites her lip nervously. “Yes. If. Most of the people my grandmother used the spell on turned back. They remembered their human lives, and they were able to switch back and forth, one year as human, then one as wolf.”
“Most of them,” I say, “but not all.”
She looks down at the snowy ground. “Some turned back physically, but their minds never returned. They couldn’t remember what it meant to be human. They stayed animals in human bodies until they could become wolves again.” Her breathing shudders. “And then there was the one spell I cast. The one who never came back.”
“Jonah.”
“Jonah.” Her eyes search the woods. The trees are bare now, their boney fingers reaching for something they can’t quite touch. “He’s still out there, Ander. You know that. You saw him the first day you came. When he stepped out of the woods and looked at you, I thought it must be a sign.” She laughs. “That’s half the reason I let you stay.”
“Yeah?” I say. “What was the other half?”
She gives me a watery smile. “I was lonely. When my grandmother passed away, the house felt so empty. I thought it would be okay, because I believed Jonah would come back, but then the day came and went, and the next day and the next…” Her gray eyes fill with tears. “It’s torture, being able to see him but not knowing if he remembers me, not knowing if he’s suffering. I hear him howling in the night. I try to charm him closer, but he’s so wary. ” She shakes her head.
I reach out and lay my hand on her shoulder. “Why risk it, Naomi?” I say quietly. “Why put yourself through the same thing, if you know there’s a chance you may not come back?”
“Because I’m the one who cast his spell, so I’m the one who has to try and bring him back. If it was done wrong, it’s my fault.”
I hate to say it, but I have to. “If there’s a chance you did it wrong, how do you know you won’t do it wrong again?”
“I won’t.” It’s the surest I’ve ever heard Naomi sound. “I’ve been over it and over it and I know I can do it right. I have to find him, Ander. If I can connect with him, make him remember me...”
“He may remember himself.”
“Exactly.”
I sigh. Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. Either way, my chest aches at the thought of losing Naomi. “What are we going to do without you?”
She rubs my arm. Her hand is warm in spite of the December cold, and I can feel the magic radiating from her. “I’ll still be your pack, Ander. You’ll still be my alpha. I wouldn’t go if I thought it meant you would lose control of your changes.”
“But what if we’re wrong? What if that is what it means?” I hate to be selfish, but it’s really not just me I’m thinking of.
“Honestly, I believe Cicely can charm you now. She’s made so much progress in such a short amount of time.”
It’s true. Ever since Cicely’s breakthrough, summoning the birds outside Crosswood Gates, her animal charming has been improving by leaps and bounds—and, not surprisingly, she’s best at charming me. I believe Cicely could handle it.
But that doesn’t mean I want to see Naomi go.
“I could make you stay, you know. I’m still your alpha. I could tell you not to change.”
Naomi’s eyes widen. “Would you?”
I don’t know, would I? Maybe I should. I would be saving her from this awful risk. Maybe she would be relieved, deep down, to have the burden taken away, to have it be someone else’s choice. We could turn around and walk back to the house and be there in time for the party. Maybe she could let Jonah go and stay with us.
Or maybe it should be the other way around. Maybe I should go with her.
I know I shouldn’t even think it, but the woods get darker and more inviting every moment. My shadow and Naomi’s lengthen and tangle on the ground. I can imagine what it would be like to be a wolf—not a monster, but an animal. The simplicity of it calls to me like a far away howl, and I want to answer. There was a time when I would have jumped at the chance to leave this life behind, to lose myself completely, to run. And isn’t that why Michael gave me Naomi’s address? Because he wanted me to have that option if I needed it? He must have known Naomi’s grandmother could cast this spell.
But that isn’t an option any more. That’s not my life. “I won’t stop you,” I say. And I won’t go with you, either.
There is genuine gratitude in her eyes. “You remind me of him, you know. When I first met you, I thought…”
She lets the words trail off, but I know what she means. She thought I could replace Jonah. And for a little while, I thought she could replace Cicely, be the easier choice. The attraction is still there, I’ll admit it, especially now that Naomi is a werewolf, now that we have the connection of the pack.
But the easy choice isn’t always the right choice. In fact, in my life, they are almost never the same thing. My heart belongs to Cicely, and Naomi’s heart is somewhere in those woods. “The fact that I remind you of him,” I say, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should.” She smiles. “Jonah was a good man. He is a good man.”
“He is.” I remember the picture she showed me in the saferoom, the guy with the messy brown hair and the lopsided smile. He’s out there somewhere, and hopefully in there somewhere, too, still present inside the wolf. I pray he is. I know what it’s like to lose yourself. I know, deep down, this is why Michal never told me about Naomi’s grandmother: he didn’t want to risk losing me. He didn’t want me to lose myself. Well, sometimes it feels like that’s all we ever do: the wolf devours us. Our face in the mirror fades. The door shuts behind us and we can’t go back in.
Not unless someone invites us in. My mind goes to Cicely, standing in the doorway of Crosswood Gates, waiting for me to say the word that would let her cross the threshold. Love is the thing calls us in. I know what it is to be lost, it’s true, but I know what it is to be found, too.
Naomi has to try.
“Almost sunset,” I say.
She nods nervously and steps o
ut of her boots, peels off her socks so she’s standing in her bare feet on the snowy ground. “Take care of Grimm.”
I laugh. “I will if he’ll let me.”
“Grimm,” she says, “listen to Ander.”
The raven hops to a tree branch, sending down a little shower of snow. He blows a raspberry.
“Well, listen to Cicely then.” She reaches out and strokes his glossy feathers. Grimm rubs his head against her palm.
“We’ll make sure he’s okay,” I say. “We’ve got our instructions for the animals. We’ll take care of the house. It’s only a year and a day, after all.”
“And then I’ll be back,” she says.
“And we’ll get to meet Jonah,” I say. “It will be good to have him in the pack.”
That makes her shoulders relax. She takes a deep breath. I study her, trying to remember her exactly as she is, with her hair like fire in the sunset and her eyes as gray as the woods. Then she shuts her eyes and speaks the spell.
I was afraid it would be painful, like a first full moon, but it’s nothing like that. It’s all over in an instant. One moment she is a girl standing in front of me, and the next she is a russet colored wolf with a girl’s gray eyes, shaking off Naomi’s coat, stepping out of her dress like it’s a shed skin.
Grimm flaps to my shoulder, startled. “Naomi,” I say, just to remind her, to hand her name to her like a parting gift.
Her eyes meet mine and she holds my gaze just long enough for me to know she heard. Then she turns and darts into the shadows of the trees and is gone.
“Hello?” Grimm flies to her clothes and back to my shoulder, confused. “Hello? Hello?”
“No.” I look at the snow, where Naomi’s footprints end and the paw prints of the wolf begin. “It’s goodbye,” I say, “for now.”
“She really went.”
I turn to see Cicely standing behind me. She’s dressed up for the party in a long dress the color of red wine, but she’s still wearing her boots and her hoodie. She holds the battered black umbrella over her head.
“Jeez!” I smile at her. “Don’t sneak up on a guy. You scared me.”
“I’m the one who was scared.” Her voice is small. “I thought you might go with her.”
“I wouldn’t.” I take a step towards her. “Cicely, you’ve got to believe me. I would never leave you.”
“Even if you should?” A lock of bright blue hair has snaked out of her hood. She tugs at it nervously with her free hand, eyeing the woods. “I know Naomi thinks I’m ready, that I can charm you, but…”
“You are ready.” I go to her, take the lock of hair from her fingers and tuck it back under her hood. “Here, prove it to yourself. Send.” I take her hand and lay it against my chest.
“What?” She says. “Now?”
“Sure,” I say. “Why not?”
“Okay.” She shuts her eyes, takes a deep breath she doesn’t actually need. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
For a few moments, I can’t feel anything. Cicely’s hand is ice cold as always.
“Ander,” she says, “you have to let it in.”
“Oh,” I say. “Right.” I shut my eyes and take a deep breath of my own, feel my chest rise and fall under her soft touch. I imagine a door opening, letting the magic in.
Instantly, I feel the warmth—different from what I felt with Naomi, but better because it’s Cissa. It flows through me, pushing the tension in front of it. It doesn’t take it away completely—the sadness I feel about Naomi leaving, the worries I have about what might come next—but it moves it out of the center and makes room for a quiet strength. I know I’ve still got problems, but I feel like I can deal.
“Better?” Cicely looks up at me hopefully.
“Well, I don’t know…”
“What?” She looks worried.
“I think for the best results you have to get a little closer.” I put my arms around her and pull her against me. “You know, maximum contact.”
She laughs and smacks my arm. “You freaked me out!”
I nuzzle my rough cheek against her soft neck. “No need to freak. As long as you’re in touching distance, I have a feeling I’ll be okay.”
“Then I better stay right here.” She turns her head and our lips touch. Her lips are cool, but the energy behind them is hot with magic and with the simple heat of us. I kiss her, softly at first, then harder, the ache of wanting her rising in me like the wolf. It’s safe, I tell myself, it’s safe, and I know it is. I’m still in control. I don’t need to turn. All I need is to get as close to her as I possibly can. I pick her up off her feet and she wraps her legs around me in one sure, graceful motion as I back her up against the nearest tree. She moans softly as I press her against the rough bark, my hungry lips moving over her jaw, her neck, my body finding a rhythm against hers. Once upon a time, I would have worried I would scare her, been afraid I might hurt her, but Cicely doesn’t scare easy—I know that now—and she doesn’t pull away, not even when I give over to the animal and let my body transform part way, growing and shifting against her. She just kisses me back with the same hunger, holds me to her with a strength that matches my own. I don’t even mind when I see a flash of fangs in her smile.
This dating a vampire thing? I could definitely get used to it.
Cicely’s fingers slide into my hair while her other hand moves up under my shirt…
Wait. A thought creeps into my brain, even though I’m really not in the mood for thinking. I pull back, letting her slide down me until her feet touch the ground.
“What?” Cicely looks at me, confused. “What is it?”
“The umbrella,” I say. “You set it down.”
“Yeah.” She points to it, lying safely beside us. “It’s right there.”
“Yeah,” I say, “but shouldn’t it be over your head?” We’re mostly in the shadow of the tree, but the tree has no leaves. The sun is almost down, but the clearing beside us is still lit with a warm red glow. “It isn’t safe.”
“Listen,” she says, “I wasn’t going to tell you until I was sure, but…” Her smile turns shy as she takes my hand and moves it to her chest, just over her heart.
It’s warm. I feel a pulsing, too irregular to be heartbeat, but still strong. “What…?”
“At Crosswood Gates, the last time I saw Five, she said something strange.”
“Five? Strange? Imagine that.”
“No, something strange but true. She said what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, and what does kill us makes us invincible.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, she put her hand over the wound in my heart when she said it, and at first I didn’t understand, but now I think I do. Having the splinter of cross in my heart, carrying it with me, it’s like it vaccinated me against my fear, you know? Like learning to live with it there all the time taught me how to deal with it, made it part of me so I wasn’t freaked out by it any more, desensitized me to the pain—maybe not completely, but enough so I could deal.”
Her eyes search mine, looking for my reaction. Honestly, I’m not sure how to react. I’ve never heard of a vampire who was able to break a family curse—but then, there’s never been a vampire like Cicely. And there’s no denying something let her run towards that cross. “Okay…” I say carefully, “that explains why you were able to free me from the cross, but that doesn’t have anything to do with the light.”
“Actually,” she says quietly, “it does. I got to thinking about it and decided, if a shard of cross could teach me not to be afraid of the cross, maybe a little beam of light could—”
I crush my eyes shut. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“Naomi did. I asked her to cast a sunlight spell on the shard.”
My eyes fly open in disbelief. “Cicely, it could have ashed your heart, burned you up from the inside! It could have killed you!”
“But it didn’t! It made me stronger! Look!”
Before I can stop
her, she thrusts her hand out of the shadows and into the hazy glow of the sun’s last rays. I reach out to snatch it back—
But there’s no need. Cicely turns her hand slowly over, bathing it in the sunset’s glow. “You see?” There’s a quiet awe in her voice. “I invited the light in, just a little, and it made me stronger.”
Her quiet triumph is contagious, but I’m still angry. “That was a huge risk.”
“It’s all a huge risk. Nothing is certain, nothing is safe. Dying taught me that. I have it in me to hurt you, you have it in you to hurt me. But we let it in anyways—the hurt, the light—and it makes us stronger. The curse is its own cure.”
I shake my head. It feels heavy. “I’m not sure I understand.”
She pulls her hand back into the shadows and lays it over mine on her chest. “I’m not sure I do, either. But I’m not sure I have to. I think I can just accept it.”
“Whoa,” I say. “What happened to my Cicely, rational logic girl?”
She shrugs. “She changed, I guess. People do.”
I put my arms around her again. “And stayed the same in all the ways that count, too.”
Cicely’s smile is like a ray of sunlight all by itself.
“But I still can’t stand to think about it. What if the spell had killed you? What if I lost you?”
“I did it so you wouldn’t lose me!” The stubborn determination in her eyes definitely hasn’t changed. “I want to walk in your world, Ander. I did it for us. And I did it for the enluzantes, because if I can unravel the curse, maybe they can, too. Maybe we can vaccinate them against it. Maybe the cure will spread through the psychic link. Maybe—”
“Slow down,” I say. “One thing at a time.”
“But I can taste it! I want us all in the light, Ander. Right now I can only tolerate the faintest rays, but it’s getting easier every day. And it’s all interconnected. Tug one piece of the curse and it all unravels. This morning I swear I saw a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It was just a ghost, but I swear it was there.”
Crossfire (Book Two of the Darkride Chronicles) Page 29
