by K. R. Conway
The dealer’s revelation was like a blow to the gut and it took every ounce of control I had to not show my utter shock. Even Kian was doing all he could to keep it together. No one knew that Christian had been knocked unconscious by one of the clan members except the five of us. We knew because we saw it happen. How the hell did this guy know?
Kian, realizing I couldn’t speak, piped up, “Seriously? How’d you find that out?”
“His dealer told me – said he was shot up with arsenic.”
Christian had a dealer? And here Kian and I were trying to sneak around, locating one of our own. We could have just asked Christian, though now we had uncovered something far more disturbing than a soul thief who dealt in . . . souls. I looked at the dealer, “Arsenic?”
The dealer gave me a weird appraisal for a moment. “Yeah – doesn’t last long, but arsenic will knock out our kind for a few minutes. It’s an old school way of taking down a soul thief, but it works.” The dealer walked to the wall rack, pushing his pool stick back into place. “Christian is an idiot though. He should have never helped that girl.”
Kian stepped over to the table and leaned casually against it, clearly aware that I was about to lose it. “I don’t follow,” he said.
The dealer turned to us, “Think about it. He has taken some strange interest in this human. If I were a Mortis who wanted to get rich quick, I would aim for the one thing that Christian Raines seems willing to pony up the dough to protect.”
“The girl,” I breathed. The dealer nodded.
Dear god. How did we not see this coming?
“Like I said – stupid move on his part. Someone will grab her up, hang onto her for ransom, and make Christian cough up that obscene wealth he has, only to kill her in the end. I’d give her a week or two at most, before someone pegs her for the walking lottery ticket that she is.”
Kian stood straighter, “No one knows who she is. The FBI never released her name.”
The dealer slowly rolled the seven-ball into a far pocket. My nerves flamed inside my body and I dug my fingers into my palms to control my panic.
“True . . . but how long can that last?” he asked casually.
He was right. I couldn’t hide her forever. Cape Cod was so bloody small, that her name was bound to get out. A hurricane of terror started sweeping through my body. We needed to get back to Eila’s house. NOW.
The dealer watched my reaction carefully, aware that I was a bit too interested. I needed to calm down. I couldn’t think straight. She was most likely asleep and warm in her bed.
“You feeling all right?” he asked.
“Yeah – I must need a hit more than I thought,” I replied, trying to pull it together.
The dealer nodded and extended his hand to shake mine, “Remember - you’ve got seven days, just like the ball says, or you forfeit your purchase.”
16 Raef
Kian and I had raced back to 408, consumed by a horrific fear that we had left the girls unprotected. It was foolish and shortsighted of us both, and we drove in silence, the anger at ourselves toxic. In the dead of night, we were unable to reach MJ or the girls, all of them no doubt asleep.
We hoped.
Our belief that they were safe could have cost them their lives, Mae included. But when we finally got to 408, I saw Eila’s Wrangler parked next to the house, and relief slowly surfaced. With the key she had given us, I got into the house and flew up to the second floor.
That’s when desperation set in, hard and fierce.
Eila was not in her room.
Kian had followed me inside and checked on Ana, who slept soundly in her bed. Mae, whose suite was on the top, 3rd floor, was also asleep, but Eila was missing.
I tried not to panic, and when I heard the TV, I followed the sound of Jimmy Stewart’s voice into the living room, finally laying eyes on my E who was snuggled into the couch.
I had nearly dropped to my knees in relief.
She had drifted off in front of the TV, which played softly throwing a ghostly light over her relaxed form. A few magazines were strewn around the floor and one rested open across her stomach. Her chest rose and fell gently, and her curved lips were parted as she dreamed, probably of a world that was far safer than this one and didn’t include my kind – or hers.
I slowly walked over to her and picked up one of the magazines. She had written inside the glossy pages and circled a few items. Then I saw my name, written in the margin, and I realized she had been making a list. A Christmas list – for me.
Some of the items she had circled, she had gone back and scratched out – a nice scarf, a pair of leather gloves – even a stuffed Elmo, though the red little monster did have a heart next to it.
I swallowed back the emotion that was beginning to crush me. I had left her alone, defenseless against the world once again. My poor planning in Newport, my assumption that we would be safe, nearly cost her everything.
But despite all that I had gotten wrong and how thoroughly I had failed her before, Eila had spent the evening trying to pick a Christmas gift for me. She had fallen asleep paging through ideas that might make me happy, when all that ever brought me joy was her effortless smile.
I looked away from her sleeping form for a moment, blinking away the building tears in my eyes, willing myself to rein in the emotions that were about to suffocate me. I was nearly two centuries old and designed to be a heartless, driven soul thief, but all of that became muddled, confused and splintered, the day I came face to face with Eila in the halls of Barnstable High School.
Because of her, I now ran a fine line between being a bodyguard who would kill without question, and a man who adored her like a lovesick teen. But what we had wasn’t a crush – it wasn’t even a Romeo and Juliet love. What we shared moved beyond all those human terms to something else. A fire and ice that bound us together, linked us like magnets and the polar opposites that we were, inscribed on our very DNA.
For me, the world held no other person I could ever love as much as Eila, and whether my desire to be with her was encoded during Elizabeth’s death or not, I didn’t care. I would tear down the world to keep her safe and nothing would get by me, nothing would come near her that was remotely threatening ever again.
Unfortunately, I suspected Eila would do the same for me, which made me worry constantly that she harbored a self-confidence that would get her killed. No one walked away from a Mortis who wanted them dead, and an untrained Lunaterra like Eila might as well just be your average high school girl.
My kind would kill her before she even had a chance to scream.
I heard her take a deep breath and I looked back to her, grateful beyond words that she was resting on a garish red couch and not inside a coffin . . . or lifeless on a cobblestone street like her grandmother.
I got down on my knees next to her and carefully tucked her dark hair away from her porcelain skin. She blinked and then a slow, sleepy smile spread on her face, her brown eyes warming with the life that flowed through her. A life that I was so fearful of losing again.
“Raef?” she whispered. “What are you doing here? What time is it?”
I stroked her soft cheek and leaned close to her, whispering. “It’s late, but I just wanted to see you. I hope that’s okay.”
“You are so weird,” she mumbled, but her smile grew and she snuggled against my palm. The pain of how much I loved her cut through me like a bullet on fire and I couldn’t help myself as I leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips.
She raised a delicate hand in response, running her fingers through my hair. “Good thing I like weird,” she whispered, a sweet grin on her face.
I drew a trembling breath, trying to push away the words of the dealer as I gathered her warm body to mine. “Let me get you to bed,” I said quietly as I rose to my feet, Eila safely in my arms.
She sighed, curling into my chest as her dark hair cascaded down my forearm like a sheet of cold satin against my skin. “Thanks for coming,” she yawned
as her body relaxed and drifted back to sleep.
I couldn’t help but smile and I rested my chin against the top of her head. I carried her up the creaking stairs to her bedroom, laying her down in the bed I had built for Elizabeth, and she curled her body against the cold sheets.
I wanted to climb in with her and warm her skin, but instead I stood there, watching her sleep.
Guarding her like a ghost in the darkness, even while she dreamed.
17 Eila
Monday morning crashed on top of me like a drunken elephant, thanks to the sound of my alarm clock screeching in my ear. I slapped it off and lay in bed, staring at the dark gray sky outside, a visual reminder that the halls of Barnstable were waiting to consume me.
I slowly kicked down my covers, but then realized I was still in my jeans and sweatshirt. Confusion slowly gave way to the memory of Raef kissing me last night and picking me up off the couch. His scent and warmth still lingered on me and I smiled, squashing my face down into my pillow, a flush of heat flowing into my skin.
I heard my door click open and the mattress bounce as Ana flopped down next to me on the bed. I turned to her, and she groaned into the covers, “The superintendent is a sick individual. High school should never start this early.”
I sighed, slowly dragging myself out of my memories and warm sheets. “Agreed. Let’s start a petition.”
Ana snorted and finally pushed herself off my bed. “Ugh – I’m getting dressed,” she moaned, stumbling back out my door.
“Don’t forget your walking boot!” I called to her.
“Yes, MOM!” she snarled back.
Thirty minutes later, Ana and I were dressed and in the kitchen, finishing the last of our mismatched bagels. Mae breezed into the room, looking amazing in a tailored blue suit and stone-colored heels.
I choked on my hot cocoa. “Wow. You look terrific,” I sputtered, floored at her dramatic change.
Her face beamed, “Do you really like it?”
“Yeah – but where are you going?” I asked, trying to calculate how she got the money for such a stunning piece of clothing.
“My first day on the job, sweetie. I am heading over to Mr. Raines’ office. He has a whole separate workspace in that fabulous home on Torrent Road. I am going to be working out of there, and then sometimes at his Beacon Hill office.”
“You are going to be working with him in his house?” I asked, a bit alarmed. Ana’s eyebrows crept up in surprise over this new arrangement.
“Well, yes, but I will be traveling a lot as well. I’ve got to fly – don’t want to be late on my first day!” she said, thrilled that she had her dream job. I couldn’t rain on her parade and swallowed back my fears that she would fall for Christian. Why couldn’t he just look like a toad and make my life less stressful?
I walked over to Mae and gave her a gentle hug, trying not to wrinkle the fabric she wore, “Good luck.”
“Thanks, sweetie! Have fun at school,” she smiled, and grabbed her keys, heading out the door.
I stood staring at her minivan as she backed down the driveway. Ana slid up next to me. “Come on – let’s get this day started so it can be over already.”
When I pulled into the packed parking area of the high school, I scanned the lot looking for Raef, but was surprised to see MJ instead, sitting on the hood of his Bronco, peeling an orange. The morning was foggy, but warm, and many of my classmates were not even wearing jackets. I had grabbed a sweatshirt, but MJ was in a t-shirt that displayed some metal band that I never heard of.
I parked next to him and he hopped off his car, tossing the last of the rinds into the bushes by my bumper. I stepped out of my side while he helped Ana out the passenger door.
“Where’s Raef?” I asked MJ as he pitched Ana’s bag over his shoulder. He slammed the door shut and Ana wobbled over to me in her walking boot.
“Raef said he and Kian had to go hunting today. They were headed up North – something about Raef’s appetite for the local deer population starting to raise eyebrows at the DNR office.”
“Oh,” I replied, surprised he didn’t text me or call. I was so used to him always being there, checking on me. But I had demanded some space and he was obviously honoring that.
MJ looked at me as we all started walking into the school with the sea of students. More than a few breezed by us with a friendly greeting. “Don’t worry, Eila – I’m sure you’ll see him later,” he said, reading my face.
“No – it’s okay, MJ. I had asked him to back-off on the protection detail thing. He is probably just following through with my wishes.” I squeezed through the glass doors and the halls vibrated with the chatter of hundreds of students.
“Wait – does that mean I can actually go to my last rehab appointment without Kian causing the women to drool?” asked Ana, now brighter and hopeful.
MJ shook his head, “Is it really that bad to have some guys looking out for you? I mean, are you two going to kick me to the curb as well?”
“WHAT? We did not kick them to the curb!” I protested, finally reaching my locker. I spun the lock, but it took a few times to remember the exact combination.
Ana reached up and kissed MJ on the cheek. “We would never be mean to a doggie,” she said, smiling.
“Oh thanks a lot,” MJ laughed. “Come on, PegLeg – I’ll escort you to your locker,” he said, looping his arm with Ana’s. They gave me a wave as they headed down the south corridor to their respective homerooms.
I watched them leave, shuffling books into my locker, focused on what things I needed for my next three classes. It took me a moment to register that someone was standing next to me, but the bright red fabric finally caught my eye.
“You’re back,” said Jesse, his red and white varsity jacket hanging open on his athletic frame.
I shifted uneasy. “Uh yeah – I guess, though I am already missing sleeping in late.”
“I hear that,” he said, leaning against the lockers. A few girls giggled Hi to him, star struck by his presence. Jesse could absolutely go into modeling someday and his future was bright as a footballer and genuinely nice human being. The NFL would someday be salivating over him, I was sure.
“Is Raef here?” he asked, looking down the hall. Most of the school knew I hung out with Raef, but no one knew that we were more than friends. In the eyes of my classmates, Raef and I were just tight buddies . . . which meant I wasn’t dating anyone.
I swallowed and tried to avoid Jesse’s curious eyes as I shut my locker. “No. He’s not here today. I’ll probably see him later.”
“Oh. Well . . . can I walk with you to English?” he asked, reaching down to pick up my backpack before I could protest. I just nodded and shoved my hands into my jean pockets as we walked, angling ourselves between the crowds. Occasionally the tight space would force us together and he would brush against my arm or back. My heart hammered in my ears every time we made contact.
Finally entering the English wing, the crowds thinned some and Jesse cleared his throat. “So, how are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Ana gets her cast-thing off today. She is thrilled and I don’t blame her. It looks uncomfortable.”
Jesse nodded and I noticed his face looked a little strained. He caught me looking at him and gave me a weak smile, but then he stopped and turned to me. I tensed as he glanced down the hallway, as if checking to see if we were alone. He sighed and spoke quietly to me, “I uh, am really sorry about that night at the bonfire. I shouldn’t have let Teddy drink.”
I did NOT want to talk about this right now. Or ever. I started to shake my head, about to tell him not to worry about it, but Jesse took a step forward and I froze in place.
“It was really messed up. And I know Teddy tried to approach you last night at the game. He wants to apologize, but I get it if you don’t want to talk to him.”
I swallowed, feeling way, WAY outside my comfort zone. Jesse was looking at me for direction and I finally was able to force the words ou
t of my mouth. “No. I don’t want to talk to him. I know he is a teammate, and probably a friend of yours, but I can’t be around him. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Eila. And yeah – he is a teammate and a damn good friend, but I’m your friend too.”
I just nodded, trying not to replay that night. I focused on the faded tile of the floor, trying to form a coherent design with the speckled pattern. Anything to cut off the memory before it bloomed fully, like an invasive weed.
“I’ll keep him away,” promised Jesse.
“Thanks” I whispered, and turned to get to English class, hoping to numb my brain with some heavy Hemingway. It was only first period and the day already sucked. That was not a good sign.
Ecology class focused on the issues with the coyotes attacking the deer in greater numbers. Most of the class found it quite fascinating, comparing the new hunting patterns of the coyotes to wolves. I went along with it, even though I knew it wasn’t the coyotes. It was Raef.
The coyotes were just enjoying his leftovers. By the end of the winter, they would be the most out-of-shape, lazy mammals on the Cape.
Our Ecology teacher, who was insanely excited about this whole new wolf-mentality, handed us papers on previous hunting patterns of Eastern Red Wolves. As I listened to him talk animatedly about pack dynamics, I began doodling my kill mark from my back, thinking back to the drawing Howe had shown me. I had never noticed how pretty the pattern was, with its twisted lines that seemed to spill inward on one another. It made me think back to the pattern on the gear as well, and I started to try and draw a replica of what I remembered from the photo. I became so absorbed with my makeshift art that I barely noticed when the bell rang.
Jesse tapped the edge of my desk. “You awake?”
“What? Oh yeah,” I replied, laughing slightly, embarrassed I had zoned.
