A chill coursed through my body.
Oh, God.
I ran back into the living room and grabbed my phone from the coffee table. I dialed her number, and with the phone pressed to my ear, I grabbed my keys and hurried out of my apartment. Who cared if the hoodie guy was still lingering somewhere outside the building? My friend could be in danger, and I was the only one who knew that.
The phone rang and rang, and she didn’t pick it up.
My heart thundered in my chest. I would never forgive myself if something happened to Ellie. Never.
I pushed the building’s front door open and stepped out just as a figure surged from the shadows.
“Mirella,” Theron breathed.
In his arms, Ellie whimpered.
My stomach dropped. “What happened?”
Theron looked side to side, as if making sure nobody could hear him before he said, “Alchemists.”
My knees wobbled. “Is she hurt?”
“I don’t think so.” He halted in front of me. “They grabbed her, may have pushed her too hard, but no scratches or cuts. But she’s scared out of her mind.”
I looked at my friend cowering in Theron’s strong arms. Her face was pale, her eyes gaunt, and her hands, cradled in her chest, trembled. Then I shifted my eyes to Theron. Could I trust him? Could I let him in?
In that moment, there was no question.
I stepped aside.
In my apartment, he placed Ellie on my couch, and she recoiled, hugging a pillow and hiding her face under it.
Beckoning Theron to follow me, I went to the kitchen.
“What happened?” I asked him, careful so Ellie didn’t hear me.
“Alchemists followed her.” He glanced to the living room. “But she isn’t a tzigane, is she?”
“No, she isn’t.” It was because of my book. I was sure if I opened her bag, which Theron had left beside the couch, I would find my book. “And what about you? You just happened to be there?”
He fixed his hazel eyes on mine. “I was curious about you.”
“So …” I gasped. “You’ve been following me?”
“No …” It sounded like a lie. “I sometimes check on you.”
“What does that mean?”
He cleared his throat. “I saw Artan saving you from those alchemists outside the club. Then, after a little research, I learned that wasn’t the first attack.” He paused. “I was curious about you.”
With automatic movements, I placed the kettle on the range and reached for a mug inside the cabinet. “And that gives you the right to follow me?”
He groaned. “I didn’t follow you. I just checked on you once or twice a day since then.”
I grabbed the shoe-tea-box, looking for the chamomile pack. “Artan said you’re bad news.”
One side of his lips curled up. “As they are bad news to us. Don’t believe everything they say.”
“And I should believe you?”
“Hell no.”
I cocked my eyebrows at him. “That’s not reassuring. I might ask you to leave.”
He raised both hands in peace. “Look, I’m just saying you shouldn’t believe me because I’m a stranger. I get it. You’re new to this entire tzigane thing, but you should know everything about everyone because you chose Lovell over us.”
“They are my mother’s enclave.”
His grin faded. “They were your mother’s enclave.”
The kettle screamed. I went to it and poured hot water inside the mug. “How much do you know?”
“A lot.”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not choosing an enclave.”
“What do you mean?”
I didn’t answer him. Instead, I took the tea and brought it to Ellie.
“Here,” I said, kneeling beside her. “I made you some tea. It’ll help you calm down.”
She peeked at me over the pillow. “Why am I here? Shouldn’t I go to the police? I was just attacked by a bunch of creeps!” She shook harder.
I placed the mug on the coffee table and clasped her hands in mine, trying to steady them. “About that … we need to talk.”
“What are you doing?” Theron asked.
I ignored him, my eyes fixed on Ellie’s frightened face. “They were after me,” I confessed. “The thing is … I’m not normal.”
Her brows furrowed. “W-what?”
“When you look at me, what do you see?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like my clothes, my style, my hair, my skin …”
“That you like bohemian style. That or you’re a Romani girl.”
“Well, I’m more than a Romani.”
“Mirella, no,” Theron warned, his voice a low hiss.
“I’m a tzigane,” I confessed. “We’re a special kind of Romani who have magic.”
She gaped at me. “W-what?”
“Tziganes have enemies. Those men who attacked you are called alchemists. They are our enemies.”
She glanced from me to Theron, back to me. “You’re not making any sense.”
I let go of her hands and opened her book bag. There it was. I pulled out my biology book. “They were after me. They followed you because of this.”
Her face paled some more. “That night in the parking garage, when we swapped sweatshirts …”
I nodded. “I was able to get you out of there before they showed up.”
“Oh my God.” Her trembling started over, stronger this time. “You’re crazy.” She stood, putting some distance between us. “You’re insane.”
I stood. “Ellie …”
She showed me a finger. “Don’t come near me. You … you’re a freak.”
A lump pressed in my throat. “Please, don’t say that.”
“I …” She ran her quivering hands over her hair. “I need to get away from here.”
“No, don’t go yet. Talk to me. Let me explain.”
She whisked her bag from the floor. “I need to go home.”
“Ellie, please …”
Shaking her head, she raced out of my apartment.
I started after her, but a hand closed around my arm, holding me back.
“She needs time to process what you told her.”
“But I barely told her anything. I didn’t explain anything to her.”
“And yet it was already more than she could handle.”
I glanced at the door, tears blurring my sight. “She’s scared and she was just attacked. I should go with her, make sure she gets to her dorm safely.”
Theron stepped in my way. “I’ll do it. I’ll follow her, make sure she’s fine.” He swiped a pen and paper from the coffee table and scribbled something. “Here, my phone number. Send me a text or call me so I have your number. I’ll call you back once she’s in her dorm, safe and sound.”
“T-thanks,” I said, my voice breaking.
After a curt nod, Theron marched out of my apartment.
And I gave in to my weak legs and fell on the floor, crying.
11
I shouldn’t have been surprised when Ellie didn’t show up for the flamenco class the next day, but I was. I had texted her several times during the day, asking her how she was, begging her to talk to me and let me explain, tell her more about it all so she could make sense of it, but she never answered me.
The rest of my life wasn’t going well either.
My mother kept popping up whenever she wanted, trying to be a part of my life. Like a statue, because she still barely said a word to me. Not even a “how was your day?” or a “aren’t your midterms coming up?” Nothing.
Then there was Artan, who showed up once with orders to take me to Lovell.
“I have classes all day,” I told him, glad it wasn’t a lie. I wasn’t in the mood to face a bunch of happy Romani people, and I wasn’t about to miss my classes.
Theron also showed up, trying to convince me to go to Bellville with him.
“It’s not as bad as Lovell makes i
t sound, you know,” he said with his lopsided grin.
When would these people realize I didn’t want any part in any of it? If I could, I would scrub the tzigane off me so the alchemists would leave me alone. I wanted to live a normal life.
The last straw was Phillip.
Since we made up on Tuesday, we hadn’t seen each other, except when he dropped off or picked up Annie from her dance classes. We had talked on the phone a little and texted, but nothing else. And, when the weekend approached and I thought I would finally be able to spend some time with him, he called me.
“I have to go out of town this weekend,” he said. “Meet some clients. I’m sorry.”
It was fine. I just had to look forward to a weekend alone with my mother pretending to take care of me. I would have to come up with something to do, preferably out of the apartment.
After my classes on Saturday, I danced by myself for over an hour. I loved it and wanted to continue, but I felt off. So, I changed from my dance clothes to jeans, a white blouse, a long, colorful, knit jacket, and boots, and walked home.
An open top, customized, red Jeep with huge tires was parked in front of my building. Hair tied in a low ponytail and his earrings shining bright, Theron leaned back in the driver’s seat, his arm crossed, his head tilted to the sky.
He saw me approaching and pulled his sunglasses off. “There you are.”
I walked to the building’s front door. “I already told you, I’m not going to Bellville.”
He hopped out of the Jeep. Like most tziganes I had seen so far, he wore boots, dark jeans, a loose shirt with the top three buttons undone, and a thick sash-like leather belt. The belt knotted on the right side of his hip with fringes coming down to the middle of his thigh.
“I’m not taking a no this time.”
I sighed and turned my back to the door, my hands on my waist. “Why? Why is it so important that I go to these enclaves? Why can’t I be a lonely tzigane lost in the world?”
He tilted his head, his long hair brushing against his shoulders. “Do you really want to be lonely?”
It was as if he had twisted a knife in my chest. How … how did he know that was my biggest fear? I had so much trouble trusting people, I had so much trouble letting them in, and yet my biggest fear was being alone. Even when I was with my mother, I was alone.
For a moment, I thought I had overcome that fear with Ellie and Phillip, but now that Ellie hated me and wanted to stay away from me, and with Phillip out of town, that feeling returned.
I knew Ellie should stay away from me. It was for the best. But just because I knew that, it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“That’s none of your business,” I barked, on the defensive.
“See, that’s the thing about tziganes. We don’t know how to be alone. We want to be friends with everyone. We want to be a part of a big family, of a big community. We were not made for loneliness.” He extended his hand to me. “Come and I’ll show you.”
I glanced at his hand, considering if I should take it. What if it bit me? “I’m not sure I should trust you.”
He placed his fist over his heart. “I give you my word that I won’t harm you. No one at Bellville will harm you. While you’re with me, I’ll protect you and make sure you’re all right.” Then he offered me his hand again. “Honor is a big thing for tziganes, you know.”
I glanced from his hand to my building behind us. It was that or spend the evening inside my tiny apartment with my mother.
“Do you promise to bring me back home the moment I say so?”
He bowed his head. “I promise.”
I slid my hand into his. As if I weighed no more than a feather, Theron picked me up and placed me in the passenger seat of his Jeep. Then he ran around, jumped over the door, and started the engine.
“Hang on,” he warned, a wicked grin on his rough face.
The Jeep jerked to life and I did hang on. Even with my seat belt, I felt like I was going to be thrown out, especially since the driver seemed to have fun racing through the streets.
For almost forty minutes, Theron drove us northeast, past Broken Hill, down the interstate, then onto a smaller road, and later onto a narrow street that seemed composed of small stones, flanked by curved trees covering the sky.
Theron’s enclave lived on a ranch. Before us sat a three-story house, half covered by ivy, half painted in warm colors. Large, round windows and glass doors led to porches and balconies surrounding the elegant house.
He parked the car before the detached five-car garage. “Home, sweet home,” he said, his eyes on the front door as it opened and a woman walked out onto the front porch. A smile took over his lips. “That’s Sheila. My puri daj.”
“Your what?”
“Puri daj. My grandmother.”
As we walked to her, I saw pride reflected on the woman’s face. The wrinkles around her eyes deepened when she smiled at her grandson. Her long gray hair was tied in a braid, and she wore thick golden hoops in her ears and a long multi-shade green skirt.
After Theron introduced me to her, Sheila walked with me through the house, pointing out which room was what, past the kitchen, which smelled wonderfully of recently baked cinnamon something, and onto the back porch.
An endless lush green garden extended past the house. A couple of patio sets, with chairs and tables and sunshades, spread across the lawn, and a few bushes and flowers enclosed each area. To the left, I could see a barn, a horse stable, and a pond complete with fountain and surrounding benches. To the right, another smaller barn-like building.
And many people.
The ones that had noticed our presence stopped whatever they were doing and approached us.
As they approached, I recognized two faces—Wonder Woman and the guy who had been with Theron outside the garage, across from the pizza place. Wonder Woman’s name was Cora, and the guy was Ramon, Theron’s brother.
Then I met Dolan (Theron’s father), Jaime (Theron’s cousin), and Neil (Jaime’s father and Dolan’s brother). There were also the ones I remembered from the club, Shay, Nico, and Rye, the guy who had been dancing with Cora and Ramon. They told me the kids were watching a movie in the barn-like building to the right, and there were others out and about, though their enclave wasn’t large.
Seemingly happy with a full house, Sheila set up one of the larger patio tables with a colorful tablecloth and lots of food.
“You’re all family?” I asked once we were seated around the table and stuffing our plates. Damn, everything smelled so good.
“In a sense, yes,” Neil piped in. He was the rom baro of their enclave. His long black hair was tied in a ponytail low on his neck, and he wore an orange shirt and black slacks. A sword hung from his brown sash. “Since our separation from Lovell, we found that many other tziganes end up alone here and there. So we find them and give them a home.”
“We became family,” Sheila added, showing me a sweet smile.
But something tugged at my mind. “Wait …” I frowned. “Separation from Lovell?”
“She doesn’t know much about us,” Theron said. “About Bellville and Lovell and tziganes in general.”
“Oh,” Neil said. “I thought you knew. Yes, we were once one big enclave.”
I found myself consumed by curiosity. “So, was the separation recent?” I tried not showing interest in the event itself. I didn’t want to appear too nosy.
Ramon let out a hollow laugh as Sheila continued, “No, dear. It happened over two hundred years ago.”
“And you haven’t resolved it yet?”
All eyes avoided mine.
Finally, Dolan gave in. “Nobody tries to resolve it,” he explained, his tone absolute. “And, if you ask me, I don’t think it’ll ever be solved.”
That was odd. I had been told tziganes should stay together. That was the best way to defend against the alchemists.
“Have you been to Lovell yet?” Ramon asked. His stance and his eyes radiated hostility and s
uspicion. I didn’t feel comfortable with his gaze on me.
“Nope,” I confessed. “They’ve been trying to get me to go though.”
He scowled. “Good. Don’t give in to them. Bunch of pompous bastards.”
“Ramon!” Sheila chided. “We don’t like them, but you know what? I don’t think we should be talking about them at all.”
The subject changed to daily tasks on the ranch, initiated by Jaime and Ramon. Neil and Shay butted in here and there. Cora remained seated at the head of the table, quiet and observant. At some point during the conversation, Dolan got up and disappeared inside the big house, and Theron scooted closer.
For some reason, I wanted to ask him about Cora. Instead, another woman snatched my attention. One seated alone on a distant patio set. “What’s up with her?” I pointed my chin past Theron, who followed my gaze.
“That’s Maire. She joined us a few years ago after being attacked by alchemists.” His eyes became sad, almost hurt. “They took her daughter.”
All of a sudden, my heart weighed more than a concrete ball. “Shit, that’s horrible.”
“It is. Since then, Maire stays like that, staring at nothing, all day long.” Theron leaned in closer and whispered, “Sometimes I can hear her crying at night.” He poured more juice in his glass and his tone switched back to normal. “We’ve been trying to track her daughter down, but it’s hard.”
“We?”
“Ramon, Shay, Jaime, Rye, Cora, and me,” he answered, pointing at the ones that had been at the club with him that night. I could feel a connection between them. “They were from Ohio before, and the girl was only a toddler. Besides, it’s been years. The alchemists are probably done with her.”
“Don’t say that,” Sheila hissed as she walked behind us, reaching for a basketful of fresh baked bread.
“But it’s true, puri daj,” Ramon said. “We all know once an alchemist gets his hands on a tzigane, it’s only a matter of hours until th—”
“Let’s pray we’re wrong,” she said, interrupting him.
Heart Seeker (The Fire Heart Chronicles Book 1) Page 9
