The Calling of the Trinity (Trinity Cycle Book 2)
Page 10
“I thought I smelled vanilla,” she said, slipping in behind me. A smile spread on her glossy lips as she stepped up to the sink, fluffing her hair. She slid her purse from her shoulder and took out a tube of lip gloss and began reapplying a thicker layer. “Strawberry,” she told me, “used to be Wren’s favorite.”
I clamped my jaw and chose not to give her the satisfaction of commenting. I turned off the faucet and tore a couple of sheets from the paper towel dispenser to dry my trembling hands. I prayed she was too caught up in her own reflection to notice.
“How long have you two been together?” she asked, dropping her cosmetics back into her bag.
“That’s really none of your business,” I replied in a flat tone.
She giggled, and the sound made the hair on the back of my neck rise. “I’m happy for him, really,” she said. “Clearly you have something the rest of us didn’t.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but I knew she was baiting me. “Still, I wouldn’t get too used to it lasting, it never does with Wren.”
I snickered, shaking my head as I started for the doorway. She sidestepped and blocked the exit. Was she really trying to play this game with me?
My eyes narrowed. “What do you want, Hailey?”
“I think that answer is pretty obvious.”
“Wren?” I scoffed.
“He’ll get tired of you,” she added, reaching out and wrapping her palm around my upper arm and squeezing.
“You don’t know anything about us,” I snapped, peeling her fingers off my arm. Blood was building in my eardrums, ringing with ferocity. I knew she would be able to hear the change in my heartbeat–knew that reaction was what she wanted.
“I know that you can’t produce an heir,” she said with a malicious grin. “You see, Quinn, you’re just a temporary distraction and Wren is still very young and let’s face it–male. He has needs, and your soft human shell won’t be able to handle the physical destruction that happens when a Were loses control to their desires. He’ll get tired of being careful with you, and when he does, I’ll be waiting. He needs to be with his own kind–with someone who knows how to handle him the right way. Call it animal magnetism honey, but you don’t have what he needs.”
“I hope you have an eternity’s worth of patience, because I can promise that’s how long you’ll be waiting.” I snatched my arm back and shoved into her shoulder hard as I exited the bathroom. Heat exploded beneath my skin as if my very own blood was boiling, and I wondered if this was how Wren must feel when the Change takes over. I wanted nothing more than to rip out of my skin and take off running through the forest. The element of Fire began tingling in my fingertips and knew that if I wasn’t careful, I could lose control over my abilities.
Get a grip, Quinn, this isn’t like you!
Still, there was something about Hailey’s words that stung with brutal force. We were much too young to be thinking about it now, but I knew because of our differences that we could never have children together. But up until recently, that had been the last thing on my mind. We were two souls linked together, bound to one another by an ancient thread of reincarnation. He was as much a part of me as I was a part of him. Our bond was encoded in our DNA. Not being able to produce an heir wouldn’t stand in the way of that… There were other options if we ever chose to have a family.
He has needs, and your soft human shell won’t be able to handle the physical destruction that happens when a Were loses control to their desires. He’ll get tired of being careful with you. Her cruel words echoed in my ears. I fled across the school building and pushed through the exit doors that led to the baseball field. Outside, the cool air rushed against my face, cooling the heat that had suffused my cheeks. I collapsed against the brick, the skin on my back scraping over the rough granules as I slid down the length of the wall. The physical pain was almost a welcome release. I raked my hands through my hair until my fingers settled on the pendent instead.
Something placid fanned through my being then, spreading slow like melting honey. It warmed my core, and my ragged breaths grew even. Now, I could hear the autumn birds chirping in the trees, and watched the dying leaves sweeping across the ground. The sound I’d heard in the bathroom–that dark, musical laughter filled my mind. You can control them, White One. You harness the key.
“That’s an interesting necklace, Quinny,” Dad commented. I was sitting at the kitchen table attempting to do homework. Attempting–because the walls were buzzing with awakened energy and the pulsating sound was vibrating in my eardrums. I was fidgeting, rolling the pendent between my knuckles and struggling to concentrate.
“Oh, yeah, I got it from the Magic Shoppe. Blaire special ordered it from Ireland.” Only half a lie, I thought.
“Does it do anything?” Dad asked in a casual tone.
I stopped fidgeting. This was the first time since my mother passed that my dad spoke of magic–outside of my visions–that is. But those, he understood, couldn’t necessarily be helped. His warm brown eyes were fixed on mine, patiently waiting for me to reply. I studied his face, searching for any sign that he might just be asking to be polite when in fact he didn’t actually want to know.
“It’s a moonstone,” I answered. I waited a beat, gauging his reaction before I continued. “It has a lot of versatile properties, but it’s known as a protective talisman that can unlock secrets and magnify emotions. It’s also thought to harness the energy of the moon,” I said. This is probably why the Dark Witch was using it. If I had to guess–that was how she managed to control a whole army of werewolves.
Dad nodded. “So, Blaire,” Dad began somewhat awkwardly, “she’s like you, isn’t she?”
“U-uh,” I stammered, thinking that perhaps my dad was a little more perceptive than I’d given him credit for.
“It’s okay,” he rushed. “You should have someone that you can talk to about–well–you know, magical things.” He pressed his lips into a smile, and I saw something in his eyes I hadn’t seen in a very long time: light. Hope.
“How did you know?”
“I just had a feeling.” He shrugged. “Quinn, you don’t have to hide who you are from me. I accepted your mother for who she was, and I accept you, too. Magic is a huge part of who you are as a person. I wouldn’t want you to stop being you.”
A sort of weightlessness consumed my entire being then. I felt lighter than I had in years–not realizing how important it was to hear my dad say those words. “I just thought… when magic couldn’t save her that–”
“–No,” Dad said, “It was never about what magic couldn’t do. It was about what I couldn’t do–as a man, as a father.” He paused, and the energy pulsing in the walls seemed to lay still–listening, waiting. “I know it hasn’t been easy for us to talk about since she’s been gone, but, she would want us to.”
I shoved out from the table and made my way over to where my father was standing at the sink and wrapped my arms around his waist. His arms tightened around my shoulders and I breathed in the familiar smell of him–the sawdust that always seemed to be clinging to the fibers of his clothing.
My heart swelled, chest contracting. For a minute, everything that was crushing down on me lifted away. The fact that my mother had hidden what I was destined to become in an effort to keep me safe didn’t seem to matter anymore. I didn’t have to know why, or understand her reasons for doing what she did. I could just accept it; like my dad had accepted me.
“Your mother loved being a witch,” Dad said. “She was so excited to teach you about nature and help you use your gifts. I’m sorry that she couldn’t be here to help you with your visions, Quinn. I always wished there was something I could do, but I never knew how to help. I hope you know I’ve always done what I thought was right.”
He looked down at his watch, eyes widening. “I’ve got to get ready,” he said.
“For what?”
“Well,” his cheeks flamed ever so slightly, “I sort of have a date.”
“Shut up!” A huge grin expanded across my face as I jabbed his shoulder with a little punch. “Please tell me it’s finally Josephine.”
“What do you mean finally?” he said, turning for the stairs.
“Where are you taking her?” I followed him up the stairs and into his bedroom where his closet doors were spread wide open. Work boots, old shoe boxes, and his old bowling bag littered the bottom of the closet floor.
“Dinner,” he said, sifting through the hangers, “and dancing.”
“Dancing?” I lifted an eyebrow and pushed him out of the way. Emmett Callaghan was not known for dressing up. His preference to flannels and old, holey-jeans bearing the stains of various wood finishes was his signature look. But I happened to know there was a nice blue button-up tucked somewhere within the dusty, threadbare crypt he called a closet. “Since when can you dance?”
“Since prom of nineteen ninety-four if you must know.”
I snorted and pulled the button-up from the back corner of his closet. “It needs ironed, but this will be perfect,” I told him.
“I am capable of dressing myself, you know.” He took the shirt I was holding and headed for the laundry room.
“Judging by your current appearance, I’d say that’s questionable,” I teased him on the way back down the steps.
When he reached the landing at the bottom of the floor, he turned and faced me. I was still a couple of steps behind him, so we were standing face to face in height. “You’re okay with this, right?”
“It’s been almost five years, Dad,” I said. “Jo is crazy about you and you deserve to be happy.”
He grinned–the right corner of his mouth pulling just a little higher than the left. “Well, as long as my daughter approves.” He shrugged.
“She does,” I said, spinning him around and giving him a little nudge toward the laundry room. “You get started and I’ll go find you a matching tie.”
He rolled his eyes but decided a verbal protest was not in his best interest. I headed back up the stairs and began combing through his closet for the small rack of ties he’d kept on the top shelf. I stood on the tips of my toes, grabbing hold of the shelf to give myself an extra boost when the wall’s surface began to ripple.
I stumbled back, nearly tripping over my feet. The energy was getting stronger and the humming resumed to a loud roar in my ears. Without thinking, I reached up and squeezed the moonstone at my throat. Just stop, I beckoned. Just as sudden as the rippling had started, it ended. I stared at the wall for a moment longer, wondering why the pull of the hidden room seemed to be growing desperate for my attention. And why, also, that I had such a firm aversion to it.
The crease deepened between my eyes as the moonstone warmed beneath my fingertips. I didn’t know what, but something didn’t feel right. I grabbed the first necktie I could get my hands on and left the room.
Chapter Nine
A Night Within A Day
Annabelle was the first to arrive after Dad left for his date. She was looking at me in a way that made it clear she was waiting for me to snap, and she’d been looking at me that way ever since I told her what happened in the ladies’ room with Hailey.
“I’m fine,” I stressed, rolling my eyes.
“Does Wren know what Hailey said to you?” she countered.
“No. And I plan to keep it that way.”
“Why on earth would you do that? I mean, the audacity of that chick is astounding.”
“Because,” I said, “Wren hasn’t been handling stress very well lately and the last thing I want to do is add more drama to his already overflowing plate. I can handle Hailey. She’s just trying to push my buttons. Ryker is using her to get to Wren and me.”
“Yeah and his plan seems to be working,” Annabelle blatantly pointed out.
I shot her a look, warning her to drop it. I was beginning to think the moonstone pendant had quite a bit to do with how I’d reacted earlier; the whole heightened emotions side effect- thing was not working in my favor.
“Fine,” she breathed. “Where is my favorite werewolf, anyway?”
“Where do you think?”
“Still running patrol?”
“Yep.” I dropped down on the cushion beside her. “He told me he’d be back by seven. He knows Bryna and Blaire are coming over to keep digging for a way to contact the person responsible for making me wear this thing.” I lifted Rionach’s amulet, watching as the milky stone caught the afternoon light filtering through the window. The blue sheen looked brighter now–a veil, for things hidden underneath.
“I still can’t believe you’re wearing it. It’s creepy.” Annabelle shivered.
“I don’t have another choice. Bryna says its power has awakened, so we can’t risk losing track of it. If the Dark forces find out we have it, they’ll do whatever it takes to try and get it back for the Dark Witch–or Penny, or whoever is summoning her spirit’s return. If we can’t find a way to destroy this thing…” I let my words trail off, unable to finish the sentence.
“Blaire cast the Chameleon Shield spell, right?” Annabelle covered her hand with mine, squeezing. “They won’t be able to find you.”
“It’s not permanent; it won’t hold forever.”
“We just need it to hold long enough,” said a voice at the front door. We looked up, watching as Blaire and Bryna appeared in front of the screen door.
“It’s open,” I called.
“You should be more careful about speaking of magical things so freely when there are open screens and windows,” Bryna told me. Her curly lion’s mane of copper hair was pulled into a French braid with a single ringlet falling loose at her temple. “That’s exactly why your home should be protected with wards. And for heaven’s sake, you should keep your door locked.” She reached back, twisting the brass knob below the handle after they’d stepped inside.
“A locked door won’t stop a werewolf attack,” I said, pushing myself upright.
Bryna pressed her lips together, but I could see the little tick in her brow. A beat later, Wren showed up in front of the door and yanked on the handle. A sharp, metallic screech sounded as his hand came away–still attached to the now broken brass arc. He muttered a curse under his breath, holding up the evidence.
“Case and point,” I said, jumping up from the couch to let him in.
Bryna’s alabaster cheeks burned a shade of strawberry and Annabelle burst out in laughter.
“Sorry,” Wren said, dropping the broken handle in my palm. “I’ll replace it.”
“No worries,” I said. “It had a rusty screw and needed replaced anyway.”
He bent to kiss my cheek and then stepped around me as the group spread into the living room. Bryna opened a large bag that looked like it had been made from ugly utility carpet and began pulling spell books and candles to the surface. “These,” she began, placing the contents on the coffee table, “are tools that should help us learn what the witch was trying to communicate with you this morning.”
“Did you find a way to track her?” I asked.
“Not exactly,” she replied, “but I found a spell that will allow us to recall your vision. I thought with all of us involved, maybe one of us might recognize a landmark or something useful. It’s an old spell, so it requires a blood offering.”<
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“A blood offering?” Annabelle piped up.
“Just a wee prick of the finger, nothing more,” Blaire said.
“Right.” Annabelle nodded.
“We should cast in the Nexus,” Bryna said. “We’ll need the aid of all the elements for this one.”
My gaze cut to Wren. None of us had been back to the Hollow since Niall’s death. The Hollow had once been my sacred ground–my safe haven, and now I didn’t think I could ever look at it again and not feel and see the awful things that happened there. Wren caught my expression, eyes hardening with anguish.
“Does it need to be the Nexus?” My tone barely registered above a whisper. I glanced at Blaire, watching as the muscle in her jaw flexed.
“It is a bit of a trek,” she added. “I think it’s best if we don’t venture too far into the forest while the rogue Weres are still out there.”
“Fine. We’ll just go far enough in to cast a protection circle in case a passing human should stumble in uninvited,” Bryna said. She stuffed the candles back into her magic carpet bag and hauled the load over her shoulder. “Quinn, lead the way.”
I straightened myself and led the others out the back door, down the steps and across the backyard until it met the tree line. Wren took my hand, wordlessly taking the lead as we stepped under the autumn canopy. He lifted his face to the wind, cataloguing the smells of the forest as we walked. I tried to mirror his steps so I wouldn’t make too much noise–not that it mattered. Annabelle sloshed through the dead leaves like a hulking giant instead of the scant five-foot-one (still in junior-sized clothing) being that she was.
We were about four hundred meters into the forest when Bryna announced the location was good enough. I looked around, taking inventory of the big oaks, maples, and pines that surrounded us. The earth hummed with energy, flowing in the ground beneath us and up through the roots that were the life force of the prodigious trees. I took a deep breath, relaxing into the familiarity of the rich smells of my forest, letting it soothe the tension in my limbs.