by Sandy Wright
His expression was wounded but I didn't care. "You just wouldn't leave. You said you wouldn't purposely hurt me. You lied. You…you." My lips trembled. "You lost your temper, you got angry again and hurt me."
Nicholas had a puzzled expression on his face. He shook his head. "I didn't. I was careful to be gentle. It shouldn't have hurt."
I put up a hand to stop him. "You are despicable. You used tactics on me that you –quite conveniently – neglected to mention beforehand. This is the last time you will demonstrate anything without teaching me first. In fact, I'm not sure you're mentally fit to be a teacher."
I straightened my shoulders, no longer concerned whether he could see through my gown. I held out my hand. "Give me my underwear. I'm going back to sleep. We'll talk about this in the morning." I put both hands on his chest and pushed him out of the doorway and into the hall. "Stay out of my room."
He remained in the hallway, looking puzzled. "Samantha, I don't understand what happened tonight."
"You think?" I shook my head wearily. "I suppose I should thank you. You taught me a valuable lesson tonight."
He was staring at the door behind my head, but a tense muscle in his jaw began to twitch. "And what would that be?"
You were right about trust. And about caring. It makes me vulnerable. I won't make the same mistake again."
Chapter 41: Crowded Mind
The following morning I awoke early after a mostly sleepless and, I admitted ruefully, frustrating night alone with my own traitorous thoughts.
I was determined to be up and downstairs before Nicholas, to take him off guard and begin the conversation on my own terms. I didn't want to end my study with him, but I did plan to learn his tactics and make them my own.
He sat at the table, and empty cup in front of him. Did the man never sleep? He looked up silently when I came into the kitchen and pulled a coffee cup from the cabinet.
He'd been writing, but put the notepad aside as I sat down, and folded his long fingers together on the table.
"Please accept my apology for my actions–or rather, thoughts–last night." He looked down at his hands for a long moment and then met my eyes again with a level gaze.
I turned my back on him to fill my coffee. Let him squirm.
"Your preparation is important, much too important for me to toy with your emotions. I let my own wishes get the upper hand. I promise it won't happen again."
Dr. Jekyll, in the morning light, apologizing for his previous night's Hyde. I deliberately kept my back to him as I fussed with cream and sugar, stirring my brew thoughtfully. Something had happened last night, and it didn't add up. At the height of the pain, my thoughts had been jumbled and all over the place. I wasn't sure how to order them into coherent form so we could discuss them this morning.
"Remember the discussion we had in the shed, after I started the fire? About not lying?" Nicholas asked. "Yet here we are still, with half-truths and evasions." He tapped a finger on the table to emphasize each word. "Betrayal."
I sat down across from him. "Don't talk in riddles Nicholas. If you want to know something, just ask." I pointed my own finger at him. "I am sick of you asking me, 'where's the key, give me the key.' I told you already, I don't have a key. Then you had to sneak your astral self around and go through all my stuff?"
At least he had the decency to look contrite. "I can't imagine I'll ever be one of your most trusted allies," he replied, "but I thought we were supposed to be, as they say, in this together."
"Funny." I slapped my palms on the table in frustration. "So did me."
He sighed. "Then let's do be perfectly honest. I know you've opened the grimoire. I warded it and the wards were broken. You opened it."
"Yes, I opened it." I held up a hand before he could reply. "It looked at me Nicholas. It opened its creepy eye and looked at me. Then it talked to me. Your grandmother created one freaky book."
Nicholas stared at me slack-jawed. His anger simply drained out and he slumped down in his chair. "What did it say?"
I shrugged. "No key is necessary when you are known."
"And the missing page?"
I gestured toward Jaco Hunsley's desk across the room. "There's a false door inside the desk. It's still there, where I found it."
"Now it's my turn." I leaned on my elbows across the table toward Nicholas, clear into his personal space. "What the fuck happened last night? And don't you dare tell me you don't know."
He stared off into space, biting his lip and nodding, as if ticking off points in his head. Finally he asked quietly. "Last night. Was there someone else on your mind, someone you care for?"
"You've lost me. What are you talking about?"
Nicholas watched me carefully. I'm sure he could see the conflict his questions had caused. "I sensed another entity may have…slipped in…with me last night. Not everything you were responding to was coming from me."
"I thought it was pretty clear who I was interested in." I felt the embarrassed flush in my cheeks. "If I recall, you lectured me when I finally said yes. What exactly do you mean?"
Now Nicholas looked uncomfortable. "I overstepped my bounds last night, Samantha, and I am sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. And I really don't want to control you." He stopped again. "But it appears, perhaps, someone else does."
I immediately recalled the threat: He will have you for the power, or see you dead. Nicholas's explanation made sense.
"I know you've been doing some studying with a Native medicine man," Nicholas said.
"Sinclair."
"Yes, right." Nicholas said. "Could it be him? I'm sure astral travel is firmly within his abilities."
I shook my head. "No. It wasn't Sinclair. For one thing, this entity, as you called it, was demanding. Sinclair is very direct, but he's polite. He has a strong sense of personal boundary. I'm sure it wasn't him."
"How is his teaching?" Nicholas asked.
"I honestly have no idea how to describe it," I said. "His beliefs are based on oral tradition. A lot of them border on mystical." I wondered how much I could tell Nicholas without having him mock me. "He can summon ancestral spirits much like you did at Samhain."
"How do you know?" Nicholas sounded surprised.
"I saw them. He thinks I can call them when I need them. I just need to find the right song, my own words."
I tensed, waiting for Nicholas to laugh at me, or make a cutting remark.
But he just looked at me with his dark eyes, almost like he was seeing me, really seeing me, for the first time. He nodded slowly. "He has taught you well. You're different, Samantha. Stronger. More sure of your abilities."
He paused. "Have you also been studying with the Crescent Moon Priest, Nuin?"
"No. We've talked about a few things. Athames." I waited a beat. "You."
"I'll bet it was an interesting conversation," he said wryly.
I chuckled. "He's not in your fan club. But why don't you like him?"
Nicholas shook his head. "I'm not going to express my opinion of a man you're dating." He stopped suddenly. Turned to me. "If you are intimate—" At least he had the grace to look pained at the idea. He ran his hands through his hair and continued. "Perhaps he was the second entity to visit you last night."
"We're not intimate. We're not dating. I went to dinner with him. Once."
"Why just once?" Nicholas kept his tone light. But the truth was in his temple, that one little vein throbbed.
I thought, Here goes. "Since we're being honest," I began, "I didn't get involved with Nuin, because I wanted to get to know you."
Nicholas stilled.
I held my breath, waiting for his reaction.
He walked around the table, knelt in front of my chair. Putting his arms around me, he pressed his face into the curve of my neck and held me close.
"Nicholas, I—"
He shook his head, then leaned back and framed my face in his hands. They weren't steady. Nor was
his breathing. His eyes were dark, intense. "You scare the hell out of me," he said softly. "I scare the hell out of me." He kissed me, gentle and tentative, almost a question. I pulled him close and deepened the kiss. My body ached with longing for him, and we moved from sweet discovery to searing in a disorientating instant. I arched toward him, but he moved away from me and stood. "I don't think I can do this Samantha."
"Why not?"
"I don't trust you." He looked away from me and raked a hand through his hair. "I'm afraid to be honest, to let my guard down. And it can't be both ways. It matters too much." He let out a long, unsteady breath. "I'm afraid I'll hurt you."
You will hurt me. The certainty of it shivered through me. The pain would come. I didn't care. "I'll find a way to make you trust me."
Chapter 42: The Hidden Triad
"Sam, you're holding out on me," Rumor said. "You spent the night with Nicholas and haven't told me a thing." She paid for our Cokes and grabbed my arm, steering me to the corner booth, and slid in beside me. "Are you okay? You haven't said a word since we left work."
"I'm fine, just distracted."
I'd been thinking about Nicholas all morning. His fingertips trailing lightly across my skin. His anger and our argument afterwards. Our heated kiss. Oh, that kiss. I shivered, remembering the urgency I'd felt in his body responding to mine. He doesn't trust me. No matter how many times I ran through the whole scene, I always ended up there. He doesn't trust me.
When I tried to get him to open up more to me about it, he said he needed some time, "to sort things out." All of this drama because of a stupid grimoire? Or was it a result of my one date with Nuin? One date! Betrayal. It seemed a strong word to describe my indiscretion. But Nicholas adamantly refused to talk about it further.
To say I was distracted was a huge understatement. Miserable was more accurate. And guilty.
His reaction had forced me to look honestly at my behavior. There were things I should have told him, but hadn't. Yet, I added in my own defense. But it was time for me to come clean. I felt awful for acting dishonestly. If he chose to confide further in me, I would listen. If not? Well, his nature was to be secretive. He had told me so plainly.
I pulled a pen out of my purse and began doodling on the napkin under my glass, printing Nicholas Orenda in neat block letters. Underneath I wrote Renard Corbeau Orenda and Bella Orenda and added, family business. I thought for a moment and added Wakenda Ondear.
Sadly, everything I knew about Nicholas and his family fit on one side of a cocktail napkin.
"Saaamm." Rumor would not let up until I gave her answers. "How are things going with him?"
"Okay." I thought over all the time I'd spent with Nicholas. "He runs hot and cold, but always intense. Extremely focused."
I sounded so bland, considering the seriousness of our late-night discussions. But I doubted Nicholas would approve if I shared those discussions, and from now on I planned to honor his wishes.
"I love his cats." I told Rumor about Shadow and Magic and described the house and library. "He's loaned me a ton of books. My next assignment is to learn herbology and how it relates to magic."
"Is he a good teacher?" Rumor waited only a short beat. "Wait, give me the important stuff first. Is he a good lover?"
I winced and chose to ignore her question for the moment; I already knew she'd be disappointed in my answer.
"He likes to teach by demonstration." I twirled the pen between my fingers, thinking. "It hasn't really been like learning, it's been more like just getting to know him."
As I said this, I realized the biggest lesson I'd learned from both of my mentors was to believe in myself. I'd felt so many things in this world were beyond my control.
Nicholas and Sinclair taught me to interact with my environment, to make things happen how and when I wanted them to. It gave new meaning to my life, new purpose. Until this moment, I hadn't realized what a boost they'd given my self-confidence, despite Nicholas's prickliness and my insecurities about him personally. Yin and yang. From the dark, light emerges. I was learning. I would learn to deal effectively with him also.
"Saamm."
I smiled at Rumor. "I have no doubt he's an exceptional lover. But I have no proof beyond kisses—yet."
Rumor raised her eyebrows. "Ohhh. And what makes you think he will be?"
I thought about his hands, surprisingly warm, splayed across my bare skin. "You know what they say about men with long fingers."
By the time I finally wriggled out of my friend's good-natured grilling, it was dinnertime, so we ordered burgers and replaced the Cokes with Coronas.
"Are you going to Maya's Yule party with him?" she asked.
I hesitated. The party was this Saturday. "We haven't made any plans."
Rumor beamed at me. "Well, I have a date."
Surprised, I said, "I didn't know you were dating anyone here."
"Not here. My boyfriend from Boston College. His name is Duncan and he's flying in Friday. We'll have to buy our gifts after he gets in, so we'll meet you at Maya's." She frowned. "I need some ideas. Sam, you did so well with Nicholas, what would you recommend?"
"Oh, my God." I shook my head. "I got him a book on curses. Do you really think it makes me an expert? "
"What's wrong?" Rumor asked. "I thought it was a brilliant idea."
"From the little I've looked at the book, it seems pretty darn weird." I shook my head again. "I don't know. Maybe I should get him something else, you know, a back-up gift."
Rumor put on her most serious, helpful look. "I'd recommend black silk boxers."
I looked at her for a long beat, mulling the visual over in my mind, then toppled over in the booth in a dramatic swoon.
The waitress walked over to us, laughing. "You're off your feet from one beer?" she teased.
"No, men," Rumor corrected. "Keep the beers coming, we'll need it."
The waitress gave a thumbs-up sign and returned with fresh drinks.
As she tidied up the table, Rumor grabbed the napkin I'd written on earlier. "Let's take a look here and see if you're destined to hook up with your sexy teacher."
Across the top of the napkin, she wrote the numbers one through nine. Then she put the alphabet letters in order under the numbers. "Have you ever applied numerology to your name?"
I shook my head.
"Do you know Nicholas's middle name or his birth date?"
I shook my head again.
"Okay, then we'll compare just your last names."
She wrote the number values corresponding to each letter of his name: O=6, R= 9, E=5, N=5, D=4, A=1. "When you add these up, they come to 30, which reduces to 3." She wrote a three by Nicholas's name. "There are certain attributes for each number, which you can compare to see if you're compatible," she said. "Let me figure yours and we'll compare them."
"You really are a Gypsy, aren't you?" I laughed. "Do you also read crystal balls and tarot cards?"
Rumor looked surprised. "Of course, don't you?" She laughed and patted me on the arm. "I keep forgetting you're learning everything as you go. I've been reading tarot and doing divination since I was a little girl. I earned my spending money in college doing readings."
"I tried a tarot read while I housesat for Nicholas," I said shyly. "I didn't go by the book, just winged it. I'd like to learn to do a reading the right way."
"You read by intuition. It's the best way to learn." She batted her big browns at me. "But I'll teach you my trade, Sam. Reading a tarot spread or a palm by candlelight is quite an effective seduction. Trust me."
I imagined trying a reading with Nicholas. It seemed a possibility. "I'll take you up on your offer," I said seriously. I couldn't recall seeing Nicholas laugh for weeks. Maybe a light-hearted evening would spark the romance.
Rumor put number values under the letters of my last name as we bantered: D=4, A=1, N=5, R=9, O=6, E=5. When she added them up, a puzzled expression crossed her face.
I looked at the napkin. My numbers added up to 30, the same as Nicholas.
"What an odd coincidence," Rumor murmured.
Without thinking, I repeated Nuin's words to Rumor. "Haven't you learned yet, there are no coincidences?"
She stared at the napkin with a perplexed expression. "Sam, holy crap, look at this! They're not just the same numbers; they're the same exact letters. Your names are anagrams!"
I studied the napkin she had shoved under my nose and gave an involuntary shiver.
Rumor had grabbed the napkin back and studied it again. "Okay, I see the other Orenda names. Relatives of his, I assume?"
I nodded.
"What's this last name, Wakanda Ondear?"
"The name Sinclair told me," I said. "The old medicine woman in his story." As well as the originator of this whole stinking prophecy, I thought grimly.
Rumor bounced in her seat like a little kid in her excitement. "Sam, I don't even need to run this last name. Look!" She arranged the letters from Ondear, first to spell Orenda, and then to spell Danroe.
I said nothing. This was beyond coincidence. The universe had hit me over the head too many times for coincidence. The old medicine woman, Ondear, started the prophecy. Nicholas's female family members, Orenda, helped guard the power sites. That left me. Danroe. The Caller. The one charged with stopping this supernatural catastrophe. I had no time left to worry about anything else. Need trumped trust. I needed to get Nicholas and Sinclair together, so the three of us could devise a plan of attack.
Chapter 43: Sinister Tradition
I left a message for Nicholas on his cell phone when I got up at dawn, too excited to sleep: "Call me today ASAP please, it's important."
Three hours later I had heard nothing. Where was he and why wasn't he checking his messages? Did he turn it off at night? I cursed our mobile digital age for making landline phones obsolete.
Running the anagrams around in my head, I wondered how I had become the one involved in this triangle. What was the physical relationship to the Orendas, or to an ancient Lakota woman? Where would I even begin to look?
