by Krista Wolf
I hit so hard I went into convulsions, and ended up in a full-blown seizure. Mr. Reilly aged a whole decade that day, or so he told me later, long years after I went back to visit him before he passed away.
In any case I woke up in the hospital some forty hours later, dizzy and disorientated, but no less worse for wear. Other than having the worst headache in the history of headaches, I felt totally fine. In fact, I actually felt clearer than normal. Much clearer, as if some kind of a film had been lifted from my cognitive perception and I could see everything with a stark new clarity.
It was weird, because I got better grades after that too. My parents joked that the fall must’ve jarred something loose, or maybe knocked something back into place that suddenly made me smart. I saw it differently thought. To me, it always felt like something inside my head had been… realigned. Put somewhere it had originally meant to be, but for some reason, never was.
Other than that, there was no way to know what I could really do. Not until I actually did it. That part happened a few months later, and again at school. A kid named Scotty Howe thought it would be funny to unhook my legs while I was hanging upside-down on the monkey bars. I fell to the sand and hurt my shoulder a little, but the real damage was from the other kids’ laughter, which hurt my pride.
I saw him later in the week, on the swing, pumping as high as he could. Trying to do that thing kids do, where they actually believe if they swing fast enough they’ll pull off that magical ‘full loop’.
Watching him there, smiling and laughing, made me intensely angry. I wanted him to fall, wanted him to eat the dirt face-first, just like I had. I began imagining it in my mind’s eye. Saw it actually happen, and the visual made me smile. I even pointed my arm at him, swinging it back and forth like a pendulum, as if I could somehow make the disaster unfold.
At the very apex of his next swing I flicked my fingers outward, as hard as I could.
And then I pushed.
Scotty didn’t just slip off the swing, he went flying. I watched in abstract disbelief as he sailed through the air and slammed into the back fence, which had to be a good twenty yards away from the swingset. He tried to scream, but all the air had been knocked from his lungs.
A whistle blew. The teacher’s aids came running. And a whole crowd of kids swarmed quickly around him.
The grim satisfaction I thought I’d enjoy was spoiled by worry. Not worry for Scotty — he could fuck off, really. Worry that someone would know it was me.
Scotty broke his collarbone in three places, and became playground legend from that moment onward. On my end, it took another day or two for the whole thing to really sink in.
Scotty hadn’t done this, I had. I’d been the one responsible for what happened.
I couldn’t believe it myself, until I went outside and tried it again. First on an empty bottle, then on a pile of bricks my father had intended on laying a path with.
Then on a car.
That part scared the shit out of me. It scared the hell out of the guy driving past my house, too. I didn’t flip the car over or anything, but I pushed it hard enough to kick the rear end outward and make him fishtail as he turned the corner.
I also pushed it hard enough to make my nose bleed.
Over time, I found out there were limitations as to what I could do. But not many, though. I considered lots of options as I grew older, one that included driving down to Atlantic City the moment I turned twenty-one and pushing the roulette ball around until I got rich.
That never happened. On the summer after my eighteenth birthday the old lady showed up, and over the course of some very expletive-riddled conversations, convinced me to ride with her to Blackstone Manor.
Fuck you Xiomara.
In the end though, it had been good for me. Joining the Hallowed Order gave me structure. Purpose. It opened doors to a world I’d never known about; a world I developed a love for, and wanted to study.
And it was a world I was a part of, too. In that sense, I myself was a case analysis. I learned I was telekinetic, and powerfully so. There were books in the archives that spoke of other people who could move objects — coins, pencils, even stones. But no one in the Order — previously or now — had seen abilities anywhere near the extent of mine.
The Order gave me everything I needed — at least for a while. I read voraciously. Learned everything I could, went on every assignment I was given and then tagged along on others. I wanted to see everything. Every shining pinnacle and darkest corner of the paranormal world.
Even what happened in Savannah.
It was Xiomara who brought me in though. Xiomara’s people who taught me how to control and focus my abilities. Blackstone Manor became a second home for me, and its members my family. And then the Order gave me something more, too.
It gave me Alex.
I told all of this to Broderick, as we lay basking warmly in that peaceful orange glow. Everything about my life, my abilities, my origins. All of these things I’d never told anyone else, not completely anyway, not even within the Hallowed Order.
Everything but Alex. That part I kept just for me.
“Wow. That’s some story.”
I whirled, and there was Damien, standing in the doorway. I had no clue how long he’d been there, how much he’d heard. But for some strange reason, his presence didn’t seem an intrusion at all.
“I knew you’d get away,” said Broderick, without looking up.
“Oh I did more than get away.”
He held something up, something that dangled on a leather thong. In the dim light I could barely make it out: a carved jade pendant, in the shape of a wave.
I gasped. “Your totem!”
Damien nodded, his long hair bouncing against his shoulders. “Christophe was wearing it. The asshole.”
Broderick sat up abruptly, and the little blanket we’d been sharing between us fell off. He didn’t seem to even notice his nakedness. “And what about Christophe?”
“He got away,” said Damien. “Or rather, I got away. From the two of them.”
I noticed he was scratched up also, but not badly. And he had some clothes on too. Not the same ones he’d been wearing before though.
“Wanna hear even better news?”
Broderick nodded.
“I got here without returning to the surface.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but Broderick seemed pretty excited about it. His eyes widened visibly. “So there was a connection? And you found it?”
“Yes. I even remembered to mark the tunnels, too.”
Broderick stood and practically hugged him, pulling the rest of the blanket off me in the process. Damien looked down at me knowingly.
“I see you finally mated her,” he smirked.
Broderick said nothing. He really didn’t have to. I on the other hand, rolled my eyes.
“You guys and this mated stuff!” I sighed. “I still don’t get it.”
“Fine,” Damien allowed. “You had sex.”
“We fucked, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He shrugged and crossed his arms, still grinning. “The point is, I’m off the hook now.” He smacked Broderick in the shoulder. “Right?”
Broderick winced at the contact. “We’ll see.” He grabbed his shorts again, then began tossing me my clothes. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
I stood up, and both men’s eyes went immediately to my naked body. Humorously, I found that I didn’t even care. They could look at me all they wanted. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t seen before.
Damien’s eyes in particular crawled down my legs. When they reached my feet however, his expression changed to one of grave disappointment.
“Oh man,” he groaned. “You had to do it in my bed?”
This time it was Broderick’s turn to laugh. “Fine,” he winked at me. “Maybe I was wrong about him being mad.”
22
DAMIEN
The truck was right where we left it, and
thankfully unguarded. Either the rest of the pack had been too lazy to find it or they just hadn’t looked.
Or maybe they were still licking their wounds from what happened in the courtyard.
It didn’t surprise me to learn about Serena’s powers, but I was impressed as hell. I’d only half-seen her do her thing back in the alleyway, and now I was glad Broderick had witnessed it too.
“Maybe we shouldn’t go home tonight,” I said, as we bumped along.
Broderick looked lost in thought, staring out over the steering wheel into the star-streaked sky.
“I mean they know where we—”
“Maybe you’re right.”
He turned onto the main road, and a half hour later we were back in Paris. Rather than steer toward our apartments, Broderick kept driving, deeper into the heart of the city.
“Can I ask you both something?” Serena asked from the back seat. Our silence gave her license to continue. “What made you leave the pack?”
Broderick was stoic and expressionless. It’s not that he didn’t want to answer, I just knew he was lost in thought. Thinking hard, trying to figure out our next move.
“Our pack was dwindling,” I said over my shoulder. “In order to boost our numbers, Karessa started taking matters into her own hands.”
Serena said nothing for a few seconds, but eventually she caught on. “So she was making more of you?”
“Yes. Creating new brood, against their will.”
“So… going out and biting people?”
I laughed, and it came out too a little too harsh. Broderick’s lips went tight.
“Something like that.”
In truth it was exactly like that. Karessa had been taking what she wanted, without regard for human life. Much the same way I’d been made — totally against my will.
And whether he liked to admit it or not, Broderick had had no choice at all.
“If given a choice, most people don’t choose this life,” I said. “Take me for example. I was bitten while sleeping on the beach. Left for dead, in a puddle of my own blood. Never saw the guy again.”
“Holy shit,” swore Serena.
“Yeah, totally. The first time I shifted, I had no idea what had happened to me. It took me a while to figure it out, and even when I did I had no idea how to handle it.”
I looked up and noticed the city lights were especially beautiful this night. The weather was clear.
“Someone eventually helped me,” I said. “They found me somehow. Took me aside and showed me who I was.”
“Xiomara,” Serena said matter-of-factly.
“Yes,” I said, with admiration. “That’s exactly who it was.”
She shifted forward from the back seat, leaning in between us. When she rolled her head in Broderick’s direction, I closed my eyes.
Shit…
“And what about you?”
The miles spun out and the truck rolled on in silence. Up on the steering wheel, Broderick’s knuckles had gone stark white.
“She made you, didn’t she? Karessa?”
Broderick’s jaw tightened. His temples flexed.
“Yes.”
Serena hesitated for a second, then reached out and took his hand. The gesture was meant to be sweet, but I wasn’t sure he was ready for it.
“Was it consensual? Or did she just take you, like—”
“I asked for it,” he said coldly. “It was something I told her to do.”
Serena glanced over at me, and my expression told her to back off. Thankfully she did.
“So she was assimilating people,” she said, “and the two of you left the pack because you didn’t agree with it?”
“It was against our way,” I explained again. “We were already thinking of leaving, and she got wind of it. Before we got the chance to go she drove us out, and kept our totems out of spite.”
“Ah,” said Serena. “Good ol’ counter-rejection.”
“Partially,” I agreed. “But she also kept them on the hopes we’d return. And knowing that eventually, we’d have to return.”
Serena nodded. “Or one day you’ll shift… and without your totem, but unable to change back.”
She caught on quickly. It was one of her better traits. She had other great traits too of course, but those would have to wait.
I see you mated her…
I was glad to find out she and Broderick had consummated the bond between us. In truth though, I was also a little jealous. Jealous that I wasn’t there. Jealous that I couldn’t experience her as well.
She was amazing, but also different. She had all of Karessa’s fire and sauciness, but none of her vindictiveness or malice. And she had real confidence. Not the falsetto confidence our past mate exuded — the one that buried miles of insecurity — but an actual courageousness and honesty that was outright sexy.
Serena’s eyes shifted left and right as she took in the sights of Paris. She was so beautiful, too. I found myself wondering if the three of us together would be different than it was with Karessa, or if it would be just as good, just as intense. I also wondered if Serena, as a non-Lycanthrope, would even want to find out.
Broderick turned the wheel, and suddenly we were in the valet parking area of one of the biggest, grandest hotels in all of Paris. Right dead smack in the middle of the city.
“A little ostentatious,” I quipped. “Don’t you think?”
“That’s exactly it,” said Broderick. “They’ll be expecting us to hole up in some cheap, out-of-the-way place. Hide in the dark, like rats.” He gestured grandly to the modern-looking skyscraper. “This is the last place they’d look for us.”
I had to hand it to him. He was probably right.
“Besides,” he went on, “this is as public as it gets. Out in the open, they might not risk too much.”
I took Serena’s hand and helped her out as Broderick handed the truck’s keys to some sharply-dressed valet. Once in the lobby it became clear we might’ve made a mistake.
“So uh… how exactly are we affording this place?”
It was by far the fanciest hotel I’d ever seen, much less been to. The floors were marble, the columns too. There were crystal chandeliers. Amazingly detailed statues. Everything was gorgeous, magnificent… and of course, expensive.
Broderick looked like a hobo, wearing mismatched clothing and pair of flip-flops he’d had in the back of the truck. He was busy counting out the money he’d taken from the glove compartment. It didn’t look like nearly enough.
“So… uhh…”
By the look on his face I knew we’d soon be asking for our ride back.
“I got this,” said Serena. She turned and headed for the front desk, wearing a wicked smile. “This one’s on Xiomara.”
23
SERENA
It was actually a really fun day. Probably the most fun you can have walking the streets of Paris… at least while getting hunted by werewolves, anyway.
The three of us greeted the sunrise from the Pont des Arts, a foot-bridge overlooking the Seine. We had breakfast at a cafe near the river, and the second the stores opened I took my two wolves shopping for actual clothes.
Again, The Hallowed Order footed the bill. It was the least they could do after thrusting me into the middle of all this mess. Besides, they certainly had the coin for it. The Order had been ‘independently wealthy’ for centuries, which I knew was just a fancy word for filthy rich.
We were all too wired to sleep. Besides, we’d slept enough. Instead we walked the streets and thoroughfares, feasting on street meat and drinking more than our share in the coffee houses and little cafes. Damien took us through Tuileries Gardens, where we stepped along beautifully-manicured paths in the shadow of some 14th century palace.
Through it all, we laughed and joked and talked… about anything and everything except wolves and totems. Not focusing on these things cleared our heads. Grounded us back to reality, to what we were actually fighting for in the first place.
And of course there was a fair share of flirting, too. A triple dose, as I walked arm in arm in arm with my two beautiful wolves.
As night fell we ducked into the nearest bistro and picked at something you could call dinner. Dessert was some layered pastry that I fell so deeply in love with I actually ordered another one.
“So this whole ‘mating’ arrangement,” I asked after two glasses of wine. “I assume there’s going to be a lot of doggie-style?”
“Oh yeah,” Damien laughed. “And then some.”
It was warm and cozy, sitting there by candlelight with not just one but two lovers. Two men who’d just taken me in almost every way, but who harbored no resentment or jealousy toward one another.
Shit, it was even romantic.
“And panting,” Broderick offered in a rare burst of humor. “And howling.”
“And shedding,” added Damien.
I laughed so hard I almost spit a mouthful of wine back into my glass. “You guys are assholes.”
But they weren’t done.
“Every full moon,” Damien went on, “Broderick drinks out of a water dish.”
Broderick nodded as if conceding the point. “Oh, and you might not want to stand in one place too long. Damien’s been known to lift his knee and piss on your leg.” Lazily he ran one finger around the rim of his glass. “Either that or he’ll hump it.”
It was hilarious, and not just because of the wine. It was funny because it relieved tension. It broke the seriousness of what we were trying to do, and what we would be doing once we had a plan in place.
“And this is what it was like… with Karessa?” I dared ask.
I watched Broderick closely, as did Damien. He didn’t seem nearly as bothered by the question as he once might’ve been.
“Similar to this,” he said at last. “But honestly? Not half as fun.”
Damien nodded immediately. “Karessa had two sides. She could go from being charming and playful to being deadly serious, all in the span of a heartbeat.”
