Chapter 16
Mattias had left. No, she’d pushed him away.
Regret churned in Rachel’s stomach, simmering like a heated cauldron. But, what could she do? Reveal herself as a werewolf? Ha, that would make the situation exponentially worse. He wouldn’t just leave like he had, he’d sprint to get as far from her as possible.
She buried herself in research and testing. It was a necessary distraction to keep her from ruminating over the end of her relationship with Mattias. If she didn’t find a cure, she’d never have a normal life. The disastrous end to her short, but magnificent time with him proved that.
She couldn’t accept a life in which she was so out of control. Much of the time, she spent spiraling down research holes of werewolf lore on the Internet. Most of it was fictional legends around the globe. Considering there was nothing fictional about her affliction, she hoped to delve deep enough to find someone who’d found a way to manage to control the shift.
She’d connected to Darla through an online search. Rachel had contacted a witch nearby in Salem who’d written about werewolves. She’d explained that shifters often lived in packs. They could transform to an animal form at will. She said that weres—who were affected upon being bitten—were more secretive. Like Rachel, they were forced to shift during the full moon. They often went into hiding out of fear or shame. With weres being so reclusive, their whereabouts and method of dealing with their affliction was uncertain. This witch had connected her to Darla, a witch renowned for her gifts with potions.
Rachel experimented with countless variations on her own, but it took time. Since she only had a short, dangerous period to test them, it could take months to come up with anything. Years.
If ever.
Still, Mattias crept into her thoughts at odd moments, and most of all, when she lay alone at night. Although the room was warm from the summer days, her bed seemed cold. Without his large presence beside her, a growing sense of loneliness engulfed her.
He hasn’t tried to contact you.
Why would he? It was over by her doing.
On the fourth day, she’d had enough of the Internet and experimenting in her home lab. She needed to get outside and talk to someone who might understand what she was going through.
She called Kelly and invited her to meet for lunch.
“Sure, where?” Kelly asked.
“How about Salem?” That way, Rachel could check in with Darla, who would be in Salem for a psychic fair. Darla had been putting out more feelers for Rachel, trying to help find a more permanent solution to Rachel’s affliction. It had nothing to do with it being where Mattias lived. After all, he’d likely left town as he’d said.
“Sure. See you at 12:30,” Kelly said.
Rachel drove to Salem and parked close to the Hawthorne Hotel. As she walked to the Pedestrian Mall where Darla had a tent, she tried to keep her eyes off the pub where she’d dined with Mattias. She failed.
She glanced inside the window. It was too dark to see the booth where they’d sat. She inhaled and tore her gaze away. No point in dwelling over what could never be.
She powered on. Dozens of white tents covered vendors selling trinkets, books, herbs, art, jewelry, and more. The scent of incense wafted from several of them. The crowd varied from many dressed in witch-like garb or Goth clothing to those who appeared more conventional wearing Red Sox and Patriots gear. Salem attracted all.
Even a muscular French former bouncer had chosen it as his home.
She blinked slowly as she pictured Mattias.
The sudden sense of being watched swept through her like a dark shadow. She turned over her shoulder, searching for someone eyeing her.
Mattias, perhaps?
That would be wishful thinking.
No one stood out. Just more tourists and locals.
Perhaps she was being foolish. It wasn’t the first time she’d sensed she was being watched since being bitten. She’d attributed it to her heightened anxiety.
After passing a table covered with more types of Tarot cards than Rachel thought imaginable, she found Darla under a tent, her purple hair pulled into a long side braid with streaks of black. She was occupied, reading cards for a young woman. Rachel kept from interrupting, busying herself by perusing wares at other vendors. She stopped before one with a collection of charms and what appeared to be amulets. She lifted the bronzed pendant inscribed with markings.
Could that be another option? Would one of these be powerful enough to resist the pull of the full moon?
Or, were they hogwash, and any benefits imagined by the power of thought? The scientist in her refused to buy into unproven claims.
Several minutes later, she circled back to Darla’s table.
“Hey, Rachel! What a surprise. Are you here for a reading?”
“No. I’m meeting my sister for lunch, but I thought I’d check in. Any luck?”
Darla scrunched her nose. “No, I’m afraid not. And, I’ve been chatting with many of the witches here this weekend.”
Rachel’s shoulders sagged. “Not a talisman or anything?” Damn, minutes ago, she was ready to dismiss the idea without proof. Yet now she heard the desperate edge in her voice. She’d try anything.
“Not that I’m aware of.” Darla reached out and squeezed Rachel’s hand. “But, don’t worry. I’ll have the potion ready for you.”
“Thanks.” Rachel forced a smile. “If I’d never met you, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Darla brushed her hand. “Oh, you’d probably go off into the wild and run amok like some of the others. It’s not the end of the world.”
Then why did it feel that way? Rachel pictured the hurt in Mattias’s eyes before he left.
“Come. While you’re here, let’s do a reading.”
“That’s sweet, but it’s not for me.”
“Oh, I hear that all the time.” Darla shooed. “And then once the person has their reading, they’re glad to have done so. What harm can it do?”
Rachel raised her brow and adopted a sardonic tone. “You might tell me that next week, during the full moon, I’m going to succumb to its power.” She sat in the fold-out seat on the other side of Darla’s table.
She laughed. “We already know that’s going to happen.”
The reading started out fine.
“This next card indicates what’s concerning you, or what you need to overcome.”
When she flipped the card to reveal the Moon card, they both grinned.
“I could have told you that,” Rachel said.
Darla read it as strife that Rachel would have to overcome. “Not to worry. Everyone faces something. It’s part of living.”
When they moved to the near future, and Darla flipped a card with the Grim Reaper, Rachel gasped.
“Don’t be frightened, honey. The death card doesn’t necessarily mean a physical death. It could mean the end of something, such as a relationship.”
Rachel groaned. “The cards need to catch up. That ship, as they say, has sailed. Itinerary and destination unknown.”
“Oh honey, I’m sorry,” Darla said. “What this can also mean is the heightened self-awareness that results from change.”
Rachel leaned back in the chair. The rough breakup had caused her to question everything—and regret. She considered herself unworthy of love with her issue, but was that idea self-imposed? Mattias had asked her to trust him and let him decide, but she’d balked. It kept her from being rejected. A cowardly way out.
More Tarot cards indicated struggles ahead, but Darla reassured her that everyone faced them. The key was learning how to grow or adjust.
When they reached the final card, Darla turned it over. A man hung upside-down by his feet.
“Oh hell, this was a bad idea. That looks ominous.” Rachel leaned back in the chair.
“No, not necessarily,” Darla said. “The Hanged Man is a mysterious card. In this case, I sense it means you need to let go. You can’t control everything and if you le
arn to surrender, only then can you move forward.”
Rachel bit her lip as she peered at Darla, contemplating what she’d said. “In regard to what? My affliction? My failed relationship. It could mean any number of things.”
“I can only share what I see. How you interpret the information is up to you.”
After the reading was over, Rachel trudged through the tented tables in a daze. She barely noted the people who passed, caught up in deciphering the reading. Could there be some truth to what Darla said? If Rachel learned to let go and accept her situation, would she be able to move on with her life? It had certainly impaired her relationship with Mattias.
But, still, it was complicated. She doubted that the cards would provide the same answer if they sensed Rachel turned into a threat to society each month.
For the next hour, she killed time walking through the shops at Pickering Wharf. Seagulls flew overhead, calling out to each other. The scent of the ocean and the rolling waves often drew her gaze to it. She stared out to the sea the way a fisherman’s wife searched for signs of her husband’s return. Only she’d blown it. Mattias wasn’t returning. They weren’t a couple. They weren’t even together. She’d been the one to ensure that.
She returned to the center of town to the restaurant. After entering it, she spotted Kelly sitting at a white table with a cheery vase of pink daisies in the center.
After ordering and chatting about life, Kelly pinned her with a probing gaze.
“What’s going on, Rachel?”
She squirmed in her chair. “What makes you say it that way?” Her voice lilted. No way would her younger sister not catch onto the discomfort in Rachel’s tone.
“You’re fidgeting so much, I’m tempted to run out to a street vendor and get you one of those damn spinners.”
The server arrived with their iced teas. After she left, Kelly took a sip while studying Rachel.
Rachel flipped her knife. She reached for the napkin and began to twist it and then forced herself to place her hands on her lap.
“Okay fine,” she admitted. “It’s about the guy I told you about. Mattias. I had to end it. Because, you know.” Rachel motioned with a circular wave.
“No, I don’t know.”
Rachel groaned. “My monthly friend. And I wish I meant my period.”
Kelly hmphed. “Yeah, it sucks and all. But, if you like this guy so much, why don’t you let him know and see what happens?”
“That’s the problem. I already know what would happen. It would scare anyone off. If it was me, and the guy I was dating told me he was a freaking werewolf, I’d run faster than you can say Moondance.”
Kelly chuckled and then danced in her seat. “Now you have that song in my head.” Then she pinned Rachel with a knowing look. “He could be more open-minded than you, my uptight older sister.”
Rachel pursed her lips. “I am not uptight.”
“Please. If your spine was any straighter, we could use it to level wall hangings.”
Rachel shifted in the booth. “Are you saying the only reason I’d react that way is because I’m close-minded?”
Kelly gave her a pointed look. “What happened when you told me?”
Rachel barked out a rough laugh. “You didn’t believe me at first. And then you freaked out like I’d dragged you through a haunted hayride through a graveyard of zombies. My point, exactly.”
When the server interrupted with their sandwiches, Rachel zipped up. Nobody could overhear what they were talking about. After she had her French dip sandwich and fries before her and Kelly had her turkey sandwich, they paused to wait for the server to walk out of earshot.
After Kelly took a bit and swallowed, she said, “What happened was I got over it and we moved on. Now who’s at your place each month locking you in your basement because you’re too afraid of your nature?”
“You are. And I appreciate it. But, you’re my sister. We share blood. He has no bond with me. He has countless other women to choose from—normal women without all the furry baggage.”
Kelly sipped her tea. “Who wants normal? It doesn’t sound like he does, or else he wouldn’t be going to that club.”
Hmm, Kelly had a point. “But, still.”
“Still, what? Being related doesn’t necessarily mean being bonded. There are plenty of relatives who treat each other like strangers, or worse, absolute shit.”
“I know. What are you saying—I tell the guy—who’s left town, by the way—that I made a mistake? And the reason I pushed him away was because I have a funny little quirk—ha ha ha—by turning into a werewolf during the full moon. But, it’s just a little thing. And can we go and run off into the sunset now? Or rather, into the moonlight?”
“No, little miss sarcasm pants. I don’t think it’s going to go down like that. He might run off. Or maybe not. You’ll never know until you take the chance. And if you don’t take a risk on someone who means this much to you, you might wonder and regret not doing so for the rest of your life.”
Rachel slumped back in her chair, bringing the glass of wine with her. “Maybe you’re right. You’re both right.”
“Who else are we talking about here?”
“The witch who creates my potion read my Tarot cards earlier. She said something about how I need to let go. I can’t control everything.”
Kelly’s eyes widened. “Hot damn.” She slapped the table. “You—Miss Ivy League chemistry professor—let someone do something so unscientific-like as to read your fortune?”
Rachel sighed. “That’s how discombobulated I’ve been lately. I’m scrambling.”
“And maybe she was right. By letting go of all your rigid rules, you’re already moving forward.”
Could that be true? Rachel stared at her barely touched sandwich. And if so, could she find a way to repair the damage with Mattias?
If she ever saw him again.
Chapter 17
The fourth night after leaving Rachel, Mattias flew west. He passed into eastern New York, spending two days exploring Troy and the Albany area. He soared north, seeking solace in the beauty of the Finger Lakes, attempting to lose his thoughts as he gazed at the endless flow of the waterfalls and the epic beauty of the gorges. He swam under the sunlight. The picturesque setting provided some solace to his battered soul, yet the ache of her loss still hammered at him, gripping him with a fierce hold when he least expected it.
If he flew far enough, maybe he wouldn’t feel her distress. Perhaps he should head north up to Canada. The delineation of crossing into another country might help. Ah, Quebec might be a good place to start over. The language and signs and food reminiscent of his homeland of France. Ultimately, he might end up returning there, but not until he was ready. Not until this yearning could be satisfied.
While he ventured deeper into the wilds of upstate New York, he focused on his original intention of leaving Caterina’s Cove. It was to find himself, find some sort of purpose, which he’d lacked back home. Could he find it among the unmarred mountains and forests around him? Sense it as the wind stroked his wings in flight?
Perhaps some were destined to walk the earth without a calling. They simply existed and then were gone, the world and all in it unimpacted by a life. Was he one of them?
Despite his intent, the increasing miles only increased his anguish. A question drummed through him like a refrain—was Rachel okay?
He grunted. Who was he trying to kid? Distance wouldn’t make him forget her. It would torment him all the more as he was unable to protect her.
What the fuck could he do? Leaving town hadn’t helped anything; it had only made it worse.
The sun set over the forests as he soared west. The fiery colors swimming inside each other to blend into new, striking hues. The intense colors above reminded him of the fire he’d felt within around her.
He closed his eyes and let the cooler evening air caress him. It wasn’t like her arms. He’d never feel those again.
The wind whispered i
n his ear. It sounded like a—a melody.
What was that? Was he hearing things? He opened his eyes. Nothing appeared different. That was odd.
Maybe he was going mad. He closed them again and listened. Something was barely audible in the distance. Yes, it definitely had a musical cadence.
No, it sounded like her song. That tune he’d often hear her humming. It tugged at him, a vivid reminder of being with Rachel.
He peered around again. Where could it be coming from?
The faint tinkling of piano keys echoed in the wind. Was he going mad? Yes, he had to be. No piano would be played in the middle of a forest.
He descended, navigating through trees to land on a pile of fallen leaves. Nothing indicated the source of the sound. It had to be in his head.
An ache swelled through him as suddenly as if a gust of wind had swept inside his core. He pictured the time at Rachel’s place, that moment when they’d sat together playing at her piano tore at him. A moment of bliss in the turbulence in his head.
A melody started to fall together. His addition to her humming. Different instruments with different sounds. Like that night they’d gone to the jazz club. The energy and intensity rose as the musicians played together. The sounds joined to make something more beautiful.
His thoughts started tumbling together as well. Maybe he and Rachel were as different as could be—different backgrounds, different lifestyles, different species for that matter—yet like two different instruments, they could perform together to create something bigger than each of them on their own.
A squirrel scurried nearby and then skittered off when he noticed Mattias. He tracked it as it navigated through the trees. He could continue to live this way, alone in the wilderness. He’d find solace in the soothing environment.
Or, he could take a risk.
The birds that sang in the morning did so together. Their chirping sounded happy as they started a new day together.
He considered his options as he stepped over the fallen leaves, avoiding soggy patches from recent rainfall.
He’d never been so content as he had with her listening to music or creating it. That was it, wasn’t it—she wasn’t just the one, but she’d helped him discover what drove him. Music. It was what had kept him sane for all those years trapped in stone. It was what he longed to discover the secrets of—the magic. She’d encouraged him to explore it more, try different instrument. Perhaps that was part of what he needed for fulfillment—a need to create. Music had been his unrealized passion for so long—until he met Rachel. Could he be lucky enough to have them both?
TORCH: Underground Encounters 9 Page 12
