“What the fuck is this?” Steven asked, gesturing to the papers and pictures. “Why the hell did you make a huge mess in the middle of the night and not even bother to clean it?” Before I could answer, he continued, “You’re so fucking selfish, Elizabeth. You don’t even care that other people live here, too. You ever thought of that?”
I glared. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. It was completely uncharacteristic of Steven to be this rude… or was it? Was I finally starting to notice what other people had said all along?
I shivered.
“Hey,” Steven barked. He snapped his fingers. “Don’t get all weepy on me,” he warned. “You’re not getting out of this.”
His comments both stung me and confused me. Staring at him, I licked my lips.
“I don’t know why you’re being like this,” I said. My voice was shaky and unsteady, like that of a child. “It’s like you’re trying to look for a reason to be a complete asshole.”
Steven rolled his eyes. “You know what?” he snapped. “Forget it, Elizabeth. I’m fucking done.” He grabbed a cup of coffee from the counter and knocked it down his throat, swallowing hastily. I cringed—even from a few feet away, I could tell that it was scorching hot.
Just as I was about to say something else, Karen walked in. She yawned, rubbing both of her eyes with her fists. Resentment bubbled inside of me like I was one of Ligeia’s kettles.
“Hi,” Karen said sleepily. She yawned again, this time not bothering to cover her mouth.
Steven smiled at her. I felt my hurt and confusion spin into a hot blend of anger. How the fuck can he be acting so normal, I thought. Two seconds ago, he was screaming at me.
“Rough night?” Karen glanced down at my muddy feet and ankles, wrinkling her nose. “God, Elizabeth, you could’ve at least washed,” she added. “That’s so gross.”
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I was sleepwalking. I couldn’t help it.”
Karen raised her eyebrows. “Oh,” she said.
I could tell she didn’t believe me.
“Anyway, I was just leaving,” Steven said. He smiled again, then grabbed his wallet and tucked it into his back pocket. He left the room without even looking at me.
As soon as he was gone, Karen frowned. “What’s wrong with you guys?” she asked, sidling closer.
I rolled my eyes. “Nothing.”
“Come on, I can totally tell he’s pissed at you.”
“I don’t know, Karen,” I said. I couldn’t keep irritation from seeping into my voice. “Just forget about it, okay?”
“You can talk to me,” Karen said sweetly. She sidled up to me. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Just stay out of it,” I snapped. Turning around, I stalked out of the kitchen, down the hall, and onto the front porch. Steven stood in the yard, spinning his keys around on one finger.
When he saw me, he glared.
“I need some alone time,” Steven said. He shook his head in disgust. “You wouldn’t know the meaning of that, though.”
“Just tell me one thing,” I said sharply, walking closer. “Do you miss her?”
“What?” Steven narrowed his eyes. “Look, Elizabeth, whatever you’re playing at—I don’t have time for—”
“Do you miss her?” I repeated, raising my voice. At my sides, my hands balled into fists.
“You’re acting psycho,” Steven said. “Who are you even talking about?”
My gut twisted. “You know,” I said. “Andrea.”
“Who?”
“Don’t do this,” I warned, holding one fist in the air. All too late, I realized that I probably looked like I wanted to hit Steven. He realized it, too—his face went white and his shock of dirty-blonde hair flopped into his eyes.
“Elizabeth, just calm down,” Steven said. He darted to the side and put both hands on my shoulders.
Reluctantly, I lowered my fist.
“Just tell me,” I said hoarsely. The tears came rushing back and I bit my lip. “Just tell me, do you think about her? Do you miss her?”
“Elizabeth,” Steven said gently. “I really don’t know who you’re talking about.” He narrowed his eyes and reached up to put a hand on my forehead.
My heart twisted. “Your sister,” I said slowly. “Andrea. Remember?” I swallowed. “She… disappeared, back when we were still in high school.”
Steven narrowed his eyes. “Wow,” he said. He shook his head slowly, tossing his blonde hair like a dog shaking free of water. “I knew things were bad, but I had no idea they were this bad.”
“What does that even mean?” My heart slowly thudded in my chest. I licked my lips, suddenly dreading Steven’s answer.
“Elizabeth…I…” Steven trailed off. “You’re kidding, right? I mean, you can’t be serious right now.” He stepped closer, shielding his eyes with his hand. I could tell by the way the color had returned to his face that he was no longer angry with me, but I felt more confused than ever.
“I’m serious,” I said in a shaky voice. “I’ve been thinking about her lately. And I wondered if you missed her.” Because you always seemed to prefer her to me, I added in my head.
A wave of shame and guilt washed over me. Steven didn’t answer, he just shook his head. His mouth hung open—he looked completely devoid of words, unlike I’d ever seen him before.
“Elizabeth,” Steven said in a hushed voice. “I’m really worried about you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
“Because you’re obviously… dealing with something right now,” Steven said. “I mean, you don’t even want to talk about it.”
“I’m trying to talk to you,” I said, glaring. “But you’re acting like I’m crazy. Look,” I added quickly. “I can show you! I have pictures,” I said, thinking of the boxes with all of my high school memorabilia.
Steven gave me a strange look. “I’m really starting to have my doubts about you.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“You heard me,” Steven said. “Maybe we should, I don’t know. Put a pause on wedding planning right now.”
“What?”
Steven sighed. “I’m not going to stand here repeating myself to a crazy woman,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “Elizabeth, this has to stop. You’ve got to cut this shit out.”
“Just tell me,” I said sharply. “Do you miss her?”
Steven came closer and put his hands on my shoulders. I shuddered as he leaned in close, staring into my eyes.
“Elizabeth,” Steven said evenly. “I never had a sister. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you… I don’t know, fall and hit your goddamned head last night?”
A numb feeling spread through my limbs. What’s going on here. I know I’m not going crazy. Why is he playing dumb? Does he feel guilty about what happened so long ago?
Does he feel like he could’ve saved her?
“I’m calling a doctor,” Steven said. “I want you to go to the hospital, Elizabeth. I’m serious about this.”
My heart jackhammered in my chest and suddenly, a burst of anger exploded inside me. Crying out, I pushed Steven away from me, using both hands to shove him in the chest. Normally, I wouldn’t have had the strength but I must’ve caught Steven off guard. He went stumbling backwards, tripping over his own feet and landing with a wet squelch! in the muddy yard.
Steven shook his head as he scrambled to his feet, wiping his palms on his dirtied jeans.
“That’s it,” he snapped. “I’m done. Fuck this,” he added bitterly.
With a fiery snap of rage, I pulled the ring off my finger and threw it at Steven’s face. He cried out in surprise as the huge, tacky diamond bounced off his cheek and fell to the ground, landing in the muck.
“I’m done, too,” I said. I sniffled. My heart pounded—what the fuck was I doing? Why was I antagonizing Steven like this—the only man who had ever loved me?
“I can see
that,” Steven snapped curtly. He grabbed the muddy ring and shoved it into his pocket before rolling his eyes. I watched, silent, as he walked over to his car and climbed in behind the wheel.
“Bye, Elizabeth,” Steven said bitterly. “It’s been real.”
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even breathe—I had to remind myself to keep inhaling and exhaling the fresh spring air. The engine in Steven’s car roared to life, then he spun out of the driveway, splashing muck into the air with the tires.
“Elizabeth?”
I turned and saw Karen standing there, looking dumb as a post.
“What?” I asked dully.
“You wanna talk about it?” Karen asked sweetly. “I can make some hot cocoa.” She walked over to me and put her hand on my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic glance.
“No,” I said coldly. “Leave me alone.”
“What happened?”
“Fuck off,” I snarled. I stalked back inside, slamming the door behind me and leaving a bewildered Karen in the yard.
Once I was back in the safety of my bedroom, I yanked off my pants and crawled in bed. The sheets were muddy and damp, but I didn’t care. I pulled the blankets over my head and reached for the nightstand, where my phone lay in a pile of keys and change.
My palms began to sweat as I dialed the number, then held the phone to my ear and pulled a pillow over my head.
He answered on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi, David,” I said nervously. “It’s me.”
Chapter One
Elizabeth—Seven Years Ago
I woke and lay there for a few seconds before opening my eyes. The air was filled with the fresh scents of spring and I felt my lips curving into a lazy smile.
“Child, you must rise now.”
My eyes flew open. An ancient-looking woman with piercing blue eyes and white hair trailing down her back stood right beside where I lay, staring at me.
“Oh, my God,” I said. I sat up quickly and wrapped my arms around myself. A rough texture rubbed against my skin and I looked down to see that I was wearing some kind of homespun robe. My mouth went dry and my heart skipped a beat.
The woman laughed. “I’m not your god,” she said.
I started to tremble and shake.
“Where am I? How… how did I get here?” I glanced around in shock. I was in some kind of hut, with no door. Outside, the trees were lush and verdant. It looked like the middle of summer.
I shivered.
The woman didn’t answer. She stepped closer and cocked her head to the side. “Yes… yes, you’ll do,” she said. “I admit I had my doubts, but yes, this should work.”
“What are you talking about?” I shook with fear as I spoke. I reached for the rough blanket over me and wrapped it snugly around my body.
“Child, you couldn’t possibly have caught a chill,” the woman said. She shook her head. “Tis eternal summer.”
I blinked at her. What the heck is going on. I bit my lip, sneaking furtive glances around. The last thing I remember… fuck! What happened?
“Your friend has delivered you to the coven,” the woman said. “I’m Ligeia—I’m the High Priestess.”
I shivered, but my fear slowly ebbed.
“I know,” I said. I hadn’t known—at least, not until she’d told me. But somehow, deep down, I’d known, like an instinct.
“Come, child,” Ligeia said. “There is much to do.”
When I crawled out of bed, I realized my joints were stiff and ached.
“Where’s Monica?”
Ligeia didn’t reply. She put her wizened hands on my shoulders and guided me to the stone hearth. A small black cauldron boiled, and the air closer to the fire smelled bitter, spicy, and herbaceous.
“Give me your hand, child,” Ligeia said. Without waiting for my consent, she took my hand and turned it palm up, studying the fine lines and wrinkles.
When she didn’t speak for a few seconds, I felt nervous.
“What are you looking for?” I asked, feeling dumb.
Ligeia tossed her white hair over one bony shoulder. “I cannot say.”
I narrowed my eyes. Before I could reply, Ligeia pulled a knife from the folds of her robes. I gasped—it was identical to the knife that Monica and I’d found in the woods by her house, months ago. The morning after that disastrous party. I shivered. That seems like such a long time ago.
Ligeia sliced the air with the knife, closing her eyes dramatically and inhaling the steam from the cauldron. Then she gripped my hand tighter than before. She sliced my palm with the knife, then squeezed the ripped flesh and flipped my hand upside down over the fire. I gasped in pain as blood dripped from my palm. When it landed against the hot fireplace, it sizzled. The air was filled with the smell of iron and meat and I coughed, closing my eyes. Still, Ligeia kept a firm grip on my hand.
“The pain will pass, child,” Ligeia said. She finally released me and I snapped my arm back, cradling it against my chest.
“Ouch,” I mumbled. “What the heck was that for?”
Ligeia didn’t answer—I got the feeling that she only spoke when it amused her to do so. She rose from her kneeling position, then walked over to a small table and smashed something green with a mortar and pestle. For a few moments, the hut was filled with the sound of Ligeia scraping the herbs to a fine pulp. When she was finished, she poured the herbs into her hand and walked over to me.
“Give me your hand,” Ligeia said. Again, she took my wrist before I was ready to consent. As she rubbed the herbal mixture into the cut on my palm, I squirmed and twisted.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Ligeia said, obviously annoyed. “Come, child. Tell me—are you really in pain?”
I looked down at my oozing wound, ready to say yes. But then I realized she was absolutely right—somehow, the pain had completely vanished. I couldn’t believe my eyes—my skin had sealed itself back together in a matter of seconds.
“What… how… what happened?” I gasped, clutching my hand. “How did you do that?”
Ligeia’s lips curled into a faint smile.
“Come,” she said. “As I said, there is much to do.”
Ligeia led me out of the small hut and into a clearing filled with lush, soft grass. She pointed at the ground.
“Sit,” Ligeia said. “The others will arrive shortly.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax. The ordeal in the hut hadn’t been that bad—but what if that was just the beginning? I shivered as I realized that I’d never once asked Monica exactly what kind of things would happen if the coven decided to initiate me.
I’m sure she wouldn’t have brought me anywhere dangerous. I glanced around, trying to see my best friend. I mean, she wouldn’t have done that. Right?
Still, I didn’t feel much calmer. Ligeia and I sat together in silence. She crossed her legs under her robes and cocked her head to the side.
“Tell me, child, how many years are you?”
“Fifteen,” I said nervously. “Same as Monica.”
Ligeia nodded slowly. “She is elder,” she said.
“Not by much,” I said quickly. “Just a couple of months.”
“I don’t mean in age,” Ligeia replied. “Monica is a serious soul.”
“I know.”
It felt strange to be discussing my best friend with someone I’d never met. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy—did Ligeia know Monica better than I? Did Monica prefer being with the coven to being at home? Before all of this crazy stuff had started happening, I would’ve thought Monica was one of the most well-adjusted people I’d ever met.
But now I seriously wondered.
“The others are arriving,” Ligeia said in a low voice.
I glanced around, twisting and craning my neck. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Hush,” Ligeia said sternly. “Close your eyes. Open your mind. Listen.”
The low sound of chanting filled my ears and goose flesh broke out all over my body. Soon, I could feel the air swishing from the motions of the others.
“Now, child, open your eyes,” Ligeia said. “But don’t move until I instruct you.”
I opened my eyes and gasped. An old man—he looked ancient, at least as old as Ligeia—with wrinkled skin and dark eyes stood directly in front of me. Ligeia stood and the man kneeled at the ground, kissing her through her robes right where her pelvis would be.
“Priestess,” the man whispered. Ligeia closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and placed her hand on the top of his white head. They stood like that together, frozen in time and space, for such a long time that I started to wonder whether or not they were actually breathing. Then the moment broke. Ligeia pulled her hand back to her side and the man climbed to his feet.
I’d been so busy staring at the weird little display that I hadn’t noticed multiple other people filter into the clearing. They were all clad in black robes, with hoods covering their heads. They formed a loose circle around me. I tried to look for Monica, but she was nowhere in sight.
Ligeia beckoned to me. “Come, child,” she said.
I stood and walked over to her on two unsteady legs. Ligeia pulled at the rough homespun material of my robe, pulling it over my head and tossing it to the ground. I cried out, covering my body with both hands in an attempt to shield my breasts and pubic triangle.
“Like this,” Ligeia said. She took my hands and pressed them down at my sides. My face burned with shame and embarrassment. I couldn’t see the faces of the robed people, but being naked while everyone else was still clothed made me deeply uncomfortable. I groaned under my breath.
“Come, Henrik,” Ligeia said to the old man. He stepped forward and I gasped when I saw that he carried a wooden bowl full of thick, red liquid.
Ligeia dipped the point of her knife into the liquid, then pressed it lightly to my skin. I cried out, thinking that she meant to cut. But the blade of the knife almost tickled as she dragged it in light lines over my naked, quivering belly. I shook with fear as she traced a symbol in red on my pale skin.
Dangerous Love (Moon Light Wolves Book 2) Page 40
