by Tally Adams
Emily's face fell into a frown. "That's not a lot for you to go on. How long have you known Paoli?"
Lyric made an aggravated sound. "I don't know Paoli at all. A few years ago, I was in a bad car accident. When I woke up, there was this male voice in my head. Until now, I thought it was just a manifestation of mental stress from the wreck. It never occurred to me there was a real person connected to it."
Emily gaped at her. "What?"
Empusa began to crow with laughter. He turned in his seat to face her, as well. "I'll give you a hundred dollars if you let me be there when you tell him you forgot him."
"Shut up, you too," Emily snapped when William joined in laughing. She slapped Empusa lightly on the shoulder. "This isn't funny." But her own face was starting to crack into a reluctant smile. "I'm sorry," she said to Lyric when she failed to stop her own grin. "It really isn't funny."
"But she doesn't even remember him!" Empusa cried, still laughing.
Lyric glared at him, not seeing the humor in the situation.
"I'm sorry," he gasped, trying to get himself back under control, but only being about half-successful. "It's just that-"
"It just never occurred to us you wouldn't know Paoli," Emily cut in with a warning look at Empusa.
But Empusa clearly missed the hint. "He connected his fate to a woman who doesn’t even know who he is," he said as another gale of humor overcame him. "It's too perfect." His voice climbed an octave as he tried to talk and continue laughing at the same time.
"You'd better get yourself under control before Paoli rises tonight," Emily advised him crossly. "Or he may decide that blood bonds or no, a werewolf would make a lovely jacket."
"Excuse me," Lyric interrupted sharply. "What do you mean 'connected his fate'?"
Empusa's laughter died abruptly. He looked at her, then at Emily.
"I think that may be a discussion you should have with Paoli," Emily said carefully, giving Empusa another look.
"To hell with that!" Lyric snapped, looking back and forth between them. "Someone needs to start explaining all of this."
Emily paused and gave her a considering look. Then she nodded slightly and waved toward Empusa as if to say, 'go ahead, big mouth'.
He grimaced and took a deep, resigned breath. "I'm not a vampire, but I can explain the general idea," he said after an uncomfortable silence. "You see, werewolves have mates, just like timber wolves. Vampires don't have the same kind of mate bond, but sometimes they claim a human as their own and forge a different type of bond. Are you with me?"
Lyric gave an impatient shrug because he still wasn't making a great deal of sense.
"The only way for it to happen is for the vampire to intervene when the human was fated for death and alter Fate's plan for them."
Lyric thought about that. "So, you're saying the night of the crash, Paoli did something to me and changed my fate?"
"Yes," Empusa said simply. "After that night, he should have been able to find you at any point. But for some reason, he couldn't. When he wasn't able to communicate with you, he went to the Coven-"
"A witch's Coven?" Lyric interrupted. Lord, she didn't want to hear witches were real, too.
"The Coven is the name for the immortal government," Emily chimed in.
"Anyway, he went to the Coven heads and explained what he'd done, but they weren't able to give him any answers, either," Empusa went on.
"Then how was he able to find me tonight?" Lyric asked.
"A lot's changed in our world recently," William said from the front seat.
"The Coven used to have two rulers, or Coven heads," explained Emily. "Lilith represented the vampires and Lycaon did the same for the werewolves. Recently, Lycaon turned on Lilith and destroyed her, then went through the castle demanding allegiance from the werewolves." Emily paused, as if thinking back. "William brought a group of werewolves and vampires together into a single flock-"
Empusa made a sound of annoyance. "We are a pack, not a flock, Emily," he said with exasperation.
Emily ignored him. "And Paoli was able to use the combined power of the flock," she looked at Empusa pointedly, then back to Lyric, "to track you."
"But right now, our government is without a ruler and Lycaon is causing as much trouble as he can. He's honed-in on us, and by your connection to Paoli, on you," Empusa said.
"Why's he after you guys?" Lyric asked, thinking it was strange to target specific people if overall allegiance was the goal.
"Because in this car are the only two people who could bring werewolves and vampires together into a single pack where they could fall under one ruler. Which makes them invaluable to him," Empusa answered, nodding at William and Emily.
"We're special," Emily said dryly when Lyric just stared at her. "Until now, there's never been a group of both species united by blood."
"Our eventual goal is to gather as many people as possible for our side and somehow bring Lycaon back to stand judgement before the remaining committee," William spoke up again. "But first we needed to manage Paoli's primary goal, which was finding you."
That 'somehow' didn't sound overly optimistic, which made Lyric ask, "Can you guys do that? Bring this guy, Lycaon, in?"
"William and Paoli have been executing misbehaving immortals for centuries," Empusa said in a light tone. "And now they have the pack to help. It's going to take time, but we'll find a way."
Centuries? The word seemed to vibrate around inside her head. Centuries. "How old are you guys?" she heard herself ask, as if her mouth was no longer connected to her brain.
"Old by human standards," William said.
Emily opened her mouth and closed it again.
Lyric sat back in her seat, her mind reeling with information overload. How was it possible there was this whole other reality happening and people didn't even know about it? The idea was simply incomprehensible. She looked through the window and watched the world go past; saw the blissfully unaware people going about their usual morning routine, confident and secure in their knowledge of the world.
The rest of the trip was spent in thoughtful silence. Lyric may have dozed a bit because it seemed a very short time later the lack of car noise brought her more aware of her surroundings. She sat up and looked around to see they were parked in front of a roadside motel just off the highway. The doors opened as everyone got out of the car, and Lyric followed suit.
Emily approached her with a room key. She took it with a slight smile of thanks.
"I know it's a lot to take in," Emily said, walking her toward the door of her room. "It really does get easier after the initial shock wears off."
Lyric didn't say anything. She was too tired to think anymore.
"Will you be all right on your own today?" Emily asked when they reached the faded red door.
Lyric managed a slightly jerky nod. "I just need some sleep, I think."
Emily gave her a look full of understanding. "William and I are right next door. Let me know if you need anything."
"Thank you," Lyric said, opening the door to her room. "I'm hoping some time and sleep will do the trick."
"I'm sorry you got dragged into this the way you did. I really do know how hard it is when the rug gets pulled out from under you." She turned her head to watch William unlock the door beside them and a slight smile touched the corners of her mouth. "But believe it or not, you may find it's all worth it in the end." She gave Lyric a sly smile and a wink and turned to follow William into their room.
Chapter Six
Though she'd been awake more than a full day, Lyric's racing mind wouldn't allow her settle enough to sleep. She paced the room while she ran through endless questions. At one point, she walked to the motel window and pulled back the blinds to peer out into the parking lot, but something about the reflection on the glass brought the werewolf's face to her mind and she pulled the curtains again quickly, wondering if she'd ever get the image out of her head.
The question that most frequently repeated
itself was: What in the hell is happening?
She pulled her phone from her back pocket and stared at it long and hard as she considered calling Sean. What would he say if she called and told him her situation? She scoffed and put the phone away. He'd say she needed to go back to the psych ward and might even have authorities track her down to that end. No doubt he'd think she'd finally gone off the deep end. All things considered, she really couldn't blame him if he did.
Which gave her an unpleasant pause. How sure was she that she hadn't? Granted, she'd never had delusions or hallucinations before, but there was always a first time, right? Could she be sure the stress of leaving her home hadn't caused her to finally lose her grip altogether? It wasn't a pleasant thing to contemplate, but she couldn't ignore the possibility; hell, maybe even probability that she was just nuts. When considered objectively, which was more likely? Was it more likely that a diagnosed schizophrenic was having a delusional episode, or that vampires and werewolves were really after her, of all people?
The realization crashed over her and stole her strength. She was truly insane, after all. Her knees gave way and she sank numbly onto the bed, her face in her hands. How could this have happened? It was as if her own brain had become her worst enemy.
You're not crazy, Paoli chided gently. Now, clear your mind and sleep, so I can.
His voice was too hypnotic and soothing to ignore. She lay back and closed her eyes, her mind blissfully blank.
She woke just as the sky was starting to burn with the beautiful colors that signaled the approach of evening. It wasn't a slow, languid wakening, but a sudden return of full consciousness and near-panic. Dusk was coming.
She needed to get away.
If there was one thing sleep had brought, it was clarity. She wasn't crazy and a war was starting between two groups of monsters who both fed on humans. Which meant the worst place for her to be was here; with one group of them who were hunting another group. The werewolves only found her because Paoli had told them about her. Doubtless he'd mentioned her location. Which meant, as far as she was concerned, if she put distance between herself and her starting point, she should be safe.
In one swift movement, she threw the blankets off and vaulted from the bed. She went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, used her finger as a toothbrush, and dragged her hands through flyaway brown curls in an attempt to flatten the mess somewhat. She glanced in the mirror and started at her own reflection.
She looked terrible. Her hair was a nest of snarls from tossing and turning in her sleep. Her face was pale. Dark circles ringed brown eyes that were pinched with exhaustion, and there was a spectacular bruise where she'd hit her head.
She stared at herself for a second, then pulled a face and shrugged.
So, she looked like a hobo.
It couldn't be helped and was the least of her worries. Orange streaks were appearing outside, which meant the sun was setting fast. If she wanted to leave without incident, it needed to be done now.
It wasn't until she tried to open her car door that she remembered William had driven last night. And he still had the keys. Dawning horror creeped into her chest. There was no way for her to leave unnoticed; to just disappear into the night like she'd planned. She groaned and leaned her head against the car, pulling uselessly at the door handle.
With a string of uttered curse words, she turned her face to stare at the motel door to the room where her keys lay like the holy treasure. Such a simple thing, keys. One of those everyday items a person never notices unless it's gone. Her keyring had a pink plastic bunny with eyes that popped out when she squeezed it. The thought of a man like William carrying her girlie keys around almost made her smile.
A heavy sigh that was more of a moan escaped her as she dragged herself off the locked car and forced her feet to walk toward the door. It loomed larger and larger in her field of vision while she moved forward, feeling like she was headed to her own execution. She paused in front of it for a final, resolved breath before giving a quick, tentative rap that was answered quickly by Emily.
"Is everything all right?" she asked with a look of concern when she saw Lyric's face.
"I need my car keys," Lyric said, trying not to feel like a traitor. She wasn't doing anything wrong. She wasn't.
Emily gave her a concerned look. "All right," she said hesitantly, turning away to disappear into the room before coming back a moment later, keys in hand.
"Thank you." Lyric took the keys while carefully avoiding eye contact.
"Are you going somewhere?" Emily asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.
"I can't stay with you guys," Lyric said. "Thank you for helping me last night, but I need to go." She tried to give Emily an apologetic smile to soften the blow.
Emily's eyes widened in alarm. "You can't leave Paoli," she said earnestly.
"I'm sorry," Lyric said firmly, retreating a step. "But I don't owe Paoli anything."
"She's right," Lyric heard William say just before he stepped behind Emily and put his hands lightly on her shoulders. "This is between the two of them."
"I'm sorry," Lyric mumbled again, turning away.
Dusk was in full-force now; the last of the daylight having been leached out into a dull, dusky gray. If she hurried, she might be able to get back to the highway before full blackness descended and obliterated her ability to navigate unfamiliar territory.
The walk to her car seemed eerily quiet with her jangling keys the only sound.
She unlocked the door and jerked it open with the familiar reluctance it always had. Her elbow bumped something behind her, knocking the keys from her hand. She spun around with a gasp to find herself face to face with the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. For an instant, she could only stare at him in stunned, silent fascination.
His face was too perfect to be called handsome. It was masculine, with wide features and perfectly-chiseled cheekbones, but held an exotic sensuality no man had a right to claim. An aristocratic nose was set above perfectly-formed lips, and long, dark blond hair was pulled away from his face. But it was his eyes that held her silent. They were ice blue and had haunted her dreams more times than she could count. Just now, they sparkled with humor. But in her dreams, they were filled with pain. Such soul-wrenching pain as no one person could ever bear.
"I've been looking for you," his voice said, and it was as familiar as his eyes.
Lyric shook her head unconsciously. "No," she breathed, moving away in slow-motion. "This doesn't make any sense." The words were thick, trying to come from a throat that was too tight.
Her mind was racing. She didn't know him. She couldn't know him. Yet somehow, she did. Those eyes were almost as familiar as her own.
Paoli watched the emotions play across her face with interest, drinking in the sight, the scent, and reality of her. She was finally here. After years of struggling fruitlessly to locate her, he'd found her at last. Granted, her reaction to him wasn't exactly what he'd hoped for, and it was clear the reunion he'd been anticipating—where she ran into his arms with tears of joy—was not going to happen.
Well, there was one fantasy shot to hell. Still, she was here; within reaching distance should he dare to try it. As much as his arms ached to hold her, the look on her face was wary; even scared, so he opted for a different tactic.
He'd almost forgotten the beauty of her delicate features; the chocolate of her eyes, the pert little nose, high cheekbones, and stubborn chin. She was exquisite. Everything he remembered and more. Without a doubt, she was worth all the wait and work he'd put in.
"Until last night, I had no idea you'd blocked our connection out," he said, moving with her, but not trying to get any closer. His hands were held at his sides; nonthreatening, but her fear and pulse level skyrocketed anyway.
"What?" Lyric breathed, continuing to backpedal around the trunk of the car and half-tripping over the wheel in her reverse flight. "What is this?"
"I forgot how," he paused, searching fo
r the right word, "cautious the human mind can be when it comes to trauma. But you need to remember the night of your accident because a lot happened."
Lyric automatically shook her head. "I don't want to think about it," she said, even as the memories began to swim to the forefront of her mind.
Paoli's answering smile was gentle and compassionate. "You can't understand what's happening now until you remember what happened then. Until you face what had to be done to save you that night."
Try as she might, she couldn't stop the broken pieces of memory starting to fall into place; slowly at first, then faster, like a carefully-constructed dam had broken. The crash, the night her parents died. The evening had been cloudy; raining against the windshield. She remembered the sound of the wipers slapping, her mother's gentle laughter interrupted by the squeal of tires as her father lost control and the car careened off the road, hitting an embankment with a screeching, crunching noise.
Pain.
There had been so much pain. Her legs were damaged. Every beat of her heart sprayed more blood from the huge, gaping wounds. She'd used her arms to pull herself from the upside-down wreckage of the family's car. Fragments of broken taillights had cut into her palms when she struggled to drag herself through the window.
Then he'd been there, reaching in to drag her clear. He'd cradled her in his arms. At the time, she thought he was death, coming to take her. His face had been contorted and terrifying, but his eyes were full of suffering. She'd reached out to offer him what comfort she could, despite her own impending doom. She remembered him murmuring to her and forcing her mouth over a bleeding wound in his own throat before she lost consciousness. And his voice had been in her head ever since.
Her eyes widened in shock at the memory, then narrowed in pure rage. "You," she hissed with such accusation and fury, his smile vanished and he went very still.
Chapter Seven
Five years she'd spent in hell. It was all because of him. He'd happened upon her when she was absolutely helpless and done something to be able to speak in her head, then spent the next half a decade essentially haunting her! Because of him, she'd undergone painful and humiliating medical tests, been poked and prodded with needles, and looked at with fear and pity by everyone in the town that had once been her home. Her name was whispered by gossips, and what they didn't know for sure, they made up until she was ashamed of everything about herself and racked with guilt for the way people viewed her brother; the poor child trapped with only a lunatic to raise him.
