“Don’t you dare judge me! Don’t act as if you’re horrified by what I’ve done! And don’t act as if you want to expose me and avenge my brother’s death, because if that were your intent, you would’ve done so already!” she reels off. “So tell me, Vera, why have you come here?!”
Vera’s whisper pierces the night more decisively than Nadine’s wild screaming. “We’ve become curious.”
We? Who is Vera working with?
“We’ve become terribly, terribly curious.”
Now, all bravado is gone. “About what?” Nadine asks timidly.
“About where all this is going to lead.”
Before Nadine can reply, Vera grabs the sides of Nadine’s stomach tenderly, but tenderness shifts into something maniacal, and Vera lifts Nadine in the air, holding her overhead like an offering.
“Let go of me!” Nadine shrieks.
Her cries twist into the night, wrapping around the coarse black light emanating from Nadine, frantically searching for a way to break free, but Nadine and her light know they are no match for Vera. Perhaps if she weren’t pregnant Nadine would fight back, but now she doesn’t risk it.
Summoning up courage she hasn’t had to call upon in quite a while, Nadine places her hands on top of Vera’s and seethes. “You leave . . . this out of it!”
Undaunted and so very unafraid, Vera raises her head to look Nadine in the face. Her features have now lost their patrician beauty, and she has gained a much more menacing countenance.
“But, Nadine . . . this . . . is the reason I’ve come to visit,” Vera replies, slowly placing Nadine back down onto the ground. “It’s difficult being an unwed mother without any friends,” Vera taunts. “I thought I could help out.”
“I don’t need your help,” Nadine spits. “I have my mother and Luba.”
The noise that echoes throughout the woods is so loud and unexpected and feral I’m surprised it doesn’t result in Louis and his gang’s immediately arriving onto the scene. When the shock of the sound wears off, I realize it’s only Vera’s uncontrollable laughter.
“Despite each having gone through labor, Melinda and Luba are the two least maternal women I know!” she laugh-speaks. “I’d rather have Medea as a midwife.”
Ignoring or failing to understand the implications of Vera’s statement, Nadine praises her female relatives. “They have done everything to help me!” Nadine shouts. “Because they both understand the importance of my pregnancy, and they both approve of the destiny I’ve created for our family.”
“But does Orion approve?”
I feel my paws digging deeper into the damp, quiet earth. I need to stabilize my body because my mind is spinning. Why did Vera just say that name? How could she know of the link between the Jaffes and the star god? Unless . . . unless she’s part of them; unless she’s like them too. Which means she’s another witch, another enemy, another thing that I have to fear and fight and defeat.
I thought something was coming to help me, not make matters worse! I thought Vera was a sign that the tide was turning in my favor, that I was going to be given help, not more obstacles!
The growl escapes my lips before I know I’m making any sound, and Vera’s head turns in my direction. We’re separated by a great distance, bent trees obstructing her view, but I know that she sees me; I know that she’s looking at the wolf and that she can see the girl caged up inside. I don’t know exactly what Vera is, but I’m right; she isn’t human, and she has powers. Why doesn’t she use them against Nadine to end this? Why doesn’t she strike out and kill her with the same amount of mercy Nadine showed her brother?
“Remember, Dominy, you are blessed.”
Lifting my snout to see above the bushes I search for my mother. It’s a stupid gesture, but uncontrollable; she’s the one who originally spoke those words to me, so every time I hear them I think they come from her mouth. But her mouth is closed, and she’s lying on a bed in a hospital miles away. And I’m here with a pregnant witch and a stranger who refuses to reveal her true intentions.
“Orion understands and supports my actions,” Nadine says, her voice quivering like the string of a bow that’s just released a poisonous arrow.
The arrow becomes a boomerang when Vera replies.
“Because He knows exactly how evil you’ve become,” she replies. “And He knows you must be stopped.”
Glancing up toward the sky, I can tell that Nadine is desperately trying to see Orion’s constellation. She’s trying to connect with her life-source; she’s trying to reach him to make him thwart Vera’s words, but the sky is empty except for the full moon. Nothing else exists except the thing that keeps me cursed. Looks like it’s doing the same thing to Nadine tonight.
“He would never try to stop my destiny!” Nadine bellows. “He has given my family the power of the Original Hunter, and He expects us to use it! He expects us to help Him reach His full potential!”
“He also expects you to use His power wisely,” Vera declares. “Which you have proven you are incapable of doing.”
I can hear Nadine’s shoes squeak as she shifts nervously from side to side, her body and her black light trying to remain stationary despite the obvious need to strike and maim and kill. “I am the only one capable of leading! The only one who is willing to do what’s necessary to lead this family to unprecedented victory and power!” she roars. “Now I will tell you for the last time, Vera, leave this town at once!!”
“Oh sweet . . . stupid . . . Nadine,” Vera mocks. “I’m not leaving Weeping Water until my job is done.”
Unable to control her anger, Nadine swipes at the air, her black energy mimicking her actions, so she looks like a multiarmed creature doing battle against an unseen foe. It’s a movement created by fury, but met with equally ferocious laughter.
Holding her hand up to her mouth in an attempt this time to stifle her unnaturally loud howls, Vera is greatly amused by her opponent’s lack of restraint. “Please, Nadine, watch your temper,” she orders. “It’s not good for a girl in your condition to get overexcited. You don’t want to give birth out here all alone in such a hostile environment.”
Reclaiming some of her dignity, Nadine scoffs at Vera’s remark. “That’s absurd. I’m not due for months.”
Her comment makes Vera laugh even louder, and I shrink closer into the shrubbery to hide myself, because her noise has got to attract anyone within a mile of us. But again no one comes. It’s as if Vera’s words are only to be heard by Nadine and me.
“Are you sure about that?” Vera asks. “Because I think you’re going to deliver sooner than you think.”
Before Nadine can protest, before she can point out that Vera’s prediction is medically impossible, Vera does something that proves to us both that she is a witch and that impossibilities are the norm where she comes from. Staring at Nadine, Vera raises her arm over her head, and just like Luba does she presses her thumb and her pinky finger together so the three remaining fingers point toward the sky. Suddenly, the blank, black sky that housed only the full moon moments ago is changed as it welcomes three new visitors. One, two, three blindingly bright stars forming a line, unconnected and connected at the same time, Orion’s constellation created by Vera’s command.
Nadine gasps, and I don’t know if it’s because of Vera’s power—Vera altered nature by herself with one cavalier movement when it took Nadine, Napoleon, and Luba’s joint effort to create a full moon in the sky where one didn’t exist. Just how powerful is this newcomer? And just how afraid is Nadine of her? When Nadine starts to respond to Vera’s action and comment as if she were a stuttering child, I get my answer.
“I d-don’t care what you th-think,” Nadine stammers. “You d-don’t know everything!”
“Oh, but I do, Nadine, and I know that your improbable pregnancy will come to an end sooner than you think. If you don’t believe me, just look up,” Vera replies. “The truth is right above us for it’s all written in the stars.”
Chapter 12
According to Lycanthropy.com, which has interestingly grown in popularity since last year, the only other girl to suffer from wolfnesia is Viktoria K. from Perm, Russia, but that’s because she blacks out during a full moon from fear because she thinks she’s going to turn into a werewolf. I black out because I mutate. As a result it’s been three weeks since my last confession.
I cannot believe I’ve kept this secret for so long. The first week really doesn’t count, because during that time I was struggling with a bout of the aforementioned wolfnesia and could only remember a vague encounter between two partially human girls as seen by a wolf, just a regular, every-day occurrence in this part of Nebraska and nothing really share-worthy. When my memory sharpened and I recalled the whole discussion, I became a bit selfish; I wanted to unravel this latest wrinkle in the ongoing mystery surrounding the Jaffe clan on my own. How refreshing would it be if I gathered my Wolf Pack and served up some bona fide concrete info instead of platefuls of suspicion and intuition and conjecture? Refreshing, but unrealistic. The one thing wolves and girls have in common is that they’re not solitary creatures; they need company. And what could be better company than hosting your boyfriend, home for his Thanksgiving break, in the soundproof closet off of the music room. Turns out I need to register for a course in how to be a good hostess.
“Vera’s a witch.”
“Could you lead with something more enticing, Domgirl?” Caleb asks. “Like, say, a kiss?”
And a refresher class in girlfriendiquette. My boyfriend wants some lip action, and I’m annoyed. Note to self: Reorganize your priorities.
Dutifully, I press my lips against Caleb’s, but luckily the moment we touch I lose my memory again. I have no idea what I was about to tell him; I’m more interested in kissing his soft, kissable lips. I place my hands on his shoulders and let them glide down the length of his arms to his elbows, and I can tell he’s been squeezing in some extra workout time in between studying; his body is harder than ever before. I let my hands meet behind his back and rest on the slope right above his butt. Caleb’s closed-eyed, wide smile tells me that he approves.
“Now that’s more like it,” he whispers. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me too,” I say, all sweet and girl-like. Then I follow up my words with a wolf-like attack. “But this Vera mystery has filled up most of my time.”
Simultaneously rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Caleb replies, “So glad I’ve been replaced by a mysterious stranger.”
With an accent on strange.
“The problem is I don’t know if Vera’s a good witch or a bad witch,” I ramble. “But if she’s cavorting with Nadine, the Four W, my money’s on the latter.”
“The Four W?”
“Wicked Witch of Weeping Water,” I say as if it’s the no-brainer question on the SATs. “If Vera’s hanging out with Nadine in the middle of the night and in the middle of the woods, Vera’s got to be up to no good.”
“Domgirl,” Caleb says, in a voice oh-so-close to patronizing. “Why don’t you start from the very beginning and fill me in on all things Vera?”
We sit on the floor, lean into the cushioned walls, intertwine our legs and arms, and I proceed to tell my bf about the latest member of our community and all the details that I finally remember of our moonlit encounter.
“I thought Barnaby was doing well in science,” Caleb says. “I didn’t think he needed a tutor.”
Someone has education on the brain. I’m glad my boyfriend’s very scholasti-focused, but seriously, I tell him about two witches squaring off in the forest and his takeaway involves my brother’s academic regimen? I guess once a tutor, always a tutor.
“Miss Martinez suggested Barnaby get some extra help in science since he wants to major in something that requires he wear a lab coat,” I explain. “And she put him and Vera together, which bothers me only slightly less than when she paired him off with Luba.”
“Interesting that Barnaby’s always getting wedged in between these women,” Caleb muses, more to himself than to me. “Almost like he’s a pawn.”
I’ve long since known that Luba and Nadine tried to use my brother in their plot against me and my father, but now Vera? That’s too much to deal with right now. First things first, we have to determine what she is, and her secret meeting with Nadine holds the key.
“Forget about Barnaby for now,” I instruct. “Let’s concentrate on the covenites.”
Frowning, Caleb clearly doesn’t agree with my mandate, but he gives in.
“So Vera actually said Orion?” Caleb asks.
“Yes!” I squeal. “But does Orion approve, those were her exact words.”
“Well, if she isn’t in cahoots with Nadine, she knows enough about her herstory,” he surmises.
“You mean her history,” I correct.
“No, herstory,” Caleb recorrects. “Jeremy’s taking some women’s issues class, and according to his professor history is gender-hateful. But Professor Doyle has way too much testosterone for a woman, so I think she’s just lashing out at a gender that doesn’t find her attractive.”
“How is Jeremy?”
Caleb doesn’t answer the question because he doesn’t hear it. I don’t answer the question immediately because I don’t understand it. Why is Jess asking Caleb about her brother?
“You don’t know?” I finally ask.
“I’m only guessing,” Caleb replies, defensively thinking I’m referring to Professor Doyle. “I’m trying not to judge, but she’s stocky and does have this hairy mole thing on her cheek, so chances are men have shied away from becoming romantically involved with her.”
I can’t concentrate on what my boyfriend’s speaking about, not that he’s making much sense anyway. I’m more concerned by Jess’s words.
“Not you,” I say. “Jess.”
Stunned, Caleb looks around the room.
“Jess is here?”
“She’s sitting right between us,” I inform him.
“No way!” Caleb jumps up like he’s bouncing on one of those hippity hop things, and shifts his position to give Jess more room. “Tell her ‘hi’ for me.”
“Tell her yourself; she can hear you,” I say. “But actually she wants to know how Jeremy’s doing.”
“Can’t she find that out herself?”
My thought exactly.
“I’ve, um, I’ve been busy,” Jess replies.
Jess is many things, but she’s not one to stammer. Something’s wrong.
“Jess, what’s going on?” I ask. “You’re not your usual bright-goldy self.”
It’s true. She’s still bathed in golden sunshine, but her glow isn’t as bright; it’s softer, like she’s standing behind a big piece of yellow gauze.
“I’m fine, Dom, totally subarashi!” she cries, complete with a faux smile.
If I knew the Japanese word for the opposite of subarashi, I would say it, but I don’t, so I simply speak my native tongue. And harshly. “You’re a liar, Jess,” I state. “Something isn’t right. Does it have to do with Vera?”
Wrong witch.
“Maybe she’s upset because Nadine visited her brother again,” Caleb suggests.
Bingo!
“She’s going to pay for what she’s done,” Jess hisses, her golden sheen illuminating brightly for just a second when she speaks.
Nadine’s going to pay for a few random visits? I get the feeling that Jess the girl is talking and not Jess the Omikami. From previous experience I’ve learned that otherworldly creatures primarily warn and advise and guide; they don’t participate in this-worldly matters unless the circumstances are dire and immediate and personal. I didn’t think vengeance was an Omikami trait.
“It isn’t,” Jess replies in answer to my unspoken thought.
“Then why do you sound like some vengeful spirit?” I ask out loud. “Oh I get it!! Jess, are you trying to act like one of those vindictaghosts from those Japanese horror movies you used to make me watch? The ones th
at attack people through their TVs and cell phones and laptops? I mean, isn’t it enough that you’re a Japanese deity? What more do you want?”
“To restore balance,” Jess replies, her voice flat and filled with importance. She is more Omikami than girl, which means I should listen to what she has to say. “Nadine is trying to tip the scales; she has to be stopped.”
She isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know, but how?
“What’s she saying, Domgirl?” Caleb asks.
“Nadine is doing something that’s making her even more evil than before.”
“Impossible,” Caleb declares.
“Tell Prince Caleb that he’s pretty, but stupid,” Jess instructs.
“I will not!”
“You won’t what?” Caleb asks.
“Jess said you’re stupid.” Guess I did. “But she also said you’re pretty.”
“Thanks, Jess,” Caleb says, obviously focusing on Jess’s positive comment only. “How can Nadine possibly be more sinister? That would make her soar past Luba.”
“Exactly,” Jess says.
No, not exactly! Vague and cryptic and ambiguous as usual. I need specifics; I need information; I need to know what Nadine is up to and why Vera’s come to town and what type of witch Vera is exactly.
“Vera isn’t a witch.”
Once again I pause in responding because I’m surprised by the speaker. It’s always startling to hear Napoleon’s voice come out of Arla’s mouth, but even more so now because I was so enraged by Jess’s crypticomment that I didn’t hear Arla and Archie come into what I ridiculously thought could be Caleb’s and my temporary private sanctuary. Now that they’re here, maybe we’ll finally get some answers.
“Then what exactly is she?” I demand.
“She’s hope,” Nap replies.
Okay, maybe not. Nap’s statement is lofty, but it lacks that certain something I’m looking for, like say, a detail.
“Could one of the dead people in the room please talk in a language the living will understand?” My words are harsh, yes, but also necessary. And words that embody a sentiment shared by at least one other person in the room.
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