“Come on, Optimistic Man,” I said, lacing my fingers through his. “We have good news to share with the others.”
Chapter Fifteen
Letting Go
The smell of hazelnut coffee woke me the next morning. Dad had the ‘good stuff’ out, which meant that he was feeling pretty rough. I rolled over, tossing back the covers as I tore myself away from the comfort of the mattress. Wren was still asleep, lying on his back with his head tilted to the side on his pillow. He slept with one arm above his head; his fingers nimbly curled into his palm. I studied the way the morning light encased his body; watched the way his chest rose and fell with each steady breath.
He’d had nightmares in his sleep. I’d woken several times throughout the night from his tossing and turning, growling in a way that was more animal than human. I wondered if it was still images of his father’s death that plagued his dreams, or if it was the unknown darkness, we still had to face. Tonight was the night Ryker expected a decision, and my heart skipped a couple of beats just thinking of what was to come. I reached out, brushing the lock of hair back from his forehead. He stirred, blinking up at me with midsummer night eyes.
“Sorry,” I whispered, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, reaching for my hand. “How’d you sleep?”
“Better,” I said. “I’m going to go talk to my dad. He put on hazelnut coffee.” I pressed my mouth together in a tight line.
“I take it that’s not a good thing?”
“Let’s just say the last time he had it out was after my mom passed.”
Wren pulled my hand to his lips, pressing his mouth against my fingers. “Do you want me to leave?”
I knew he was only asking because he’d be able to hear everything that we talked about. I shook my head. “I want you to stay.”
“Okay.” He kissed my hand again, rolling to his side.
I smiled a small smile before heading for the door. I padded down the steps and spotted my dad through the sliding door, sitting on one of the lawn chairs on the deck. The steam from his coffee cup was rising and rolling through the air. I poured myself a cup and took it outside to join him.
He looked up at me, forcing his mouth into the shape of a smile. The shadow of a sleepless night underscored his swollen eyes, matching the disheveled case of bed-head. His dark locks curled above his brow which somehow managed to be endearing. “Hey Quinny, I didn’t wake you did I?”
“No, I was awake,” I lied. The crisp morning air rose gooseflesh on the back of my arms, so I tucked my legs beneath me as I sat, and curled my fingers around the ceramic mug for warmth. “How long have you been up?”
“Oh, not long.”
I nodded, letting the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves distract me. Golden leaves shook loose from surrounding branches and tumbled across the pale frosted grass. “So, I didn’t get to ask you what you and Wren were talking about last night,” I prompted.
“It was a man-to-man conversation,” Dad said. He was looking at his coffee cup, but the corner of his mouth quirked. “He promised me that he would never let anything happen to you. He’s a good kid–a good man,” he corrected.
“I’m glad you approve,” I said.
“This is all just going to take a while for me to… adjust, but, I want you to know that I’m okay. You don’t need to worry about me.” He looked up at me then, meeting my eyes. “I know that I can’t help you, and I know you have to save the world so to speak. It’s hard for me to look at you and not see my little girl; I’ll always want to protect you. But,” he drew a breath, “I also see the woman that you are becoming. You remind me so much of your mother, and I see her strength in you. I know that she’s watching over you.” He smiled. It didn’t quite reach his eyes but there was a soft, warm glow there.
I reached out, cupping the back of his hand and squeezing. “I know this can’t be easy for you, but it means a lot to have your trust,” I told him. “If I could protect you from this burden, I would.”
“That’s not your job, Quinny.” He turned his hand over and squeezed mine instead. Tears welled in my eyes, and I wondered if he knew just how much I loved him. “So,” he said a moment later, “Wren filled me in on what’s been going on in the world of Supernaturals. He says you’ll have to leave to find this… enchantress… person.”
I nodded. “We have to find her before the solar eclipse.”
“Are you sure you can trust her?”
“I’m not really sure of anything,” I admitted. “I believe that she’s on our side. Mom wouldn’t have let her help spell the attic and hide the grimoire if she wasn’t. I think she’s our only hope against the Darkness.”
Dad nodded. “This is the hard part… letting you go.”
“I know,” I said, voice steady and soft. “I was made for this, Dad. I’m not afraid.”
“That’s because you’re just like your mother. Nothing ever scared her, either.” He chuckled then, remembering.
I let the silence settle around us for a small while, but then I remembered something that had nothing to do with the supernatural... “How was your date with Josephine?”
Dad blinked and cleared his throat. “It was great,” he admitted.
“So I can assume that she’ll be on the Thanksgiving guest list this year.” I grinned, bumping his shoulder with mine. I purposely steered the conversation to something that didn’t involve magic. It was important that he gripped hold of this human reality and didn’t linger on thoughts of things he couldn’t control.
“Well, that’s still a little way off, don’t you think?” Dad shot me a suspicious glance. But I could see the eagerness in it too.
“Nah,” I said, “I think it gives us something normal to look forward to. We can invite the whole gang–make it a big event.”
“A werewolf, a couple of witches, and a few humans–I’m not so sure that’s exactly a normal Thanksgiving.”
“It’s normal for us.” I laughed.
Dad titled his head to the side and raised both of his eyebrows. “I suppose you’re right about that.” He grinned.
“I love you, Dad, always.”
“I love you, too.” He tipped his mug to his lips, finishing the last gulp of his hazelnut coffee, and then the sun crested the horizon line.
“No way,” Wren said. I watched his hands tighten over the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white; his jaw set sternly.
“Yes way,” I persisted stubbornly. Wren steered the Firebird around the curve just a little too fast, and I gripped the edges of my seat. I broke the news of my plans to go before the Thornwood council on our drive to school, and needless to say, the conversation was going just as I imagined it would: Wren protesting, and me not backing down until I got my way.
“They know what you are now,” Wren continued. “The whole pack is going to be on high alert, there’s no way I’m going to let you walk in there and present yourself before the council. That’s like leading an animal to slaughter.”
“Oh, and I suppose you thought I was just going to let you go alone?” I snickered. “You’re delusional Wren Whelan. The fact of the matter is we’re both stubborn to a fault and neither of us wants to let the other walk into a situation where a possible threat is lurking. Blaire and I think this is an opportune time to go before the council as the Trinity, and work on forming some kind of an alliance.”
The corner of Wren’s mouth twitched. “An alliance?” We pulled into the senior lot and parked the Firebird next to Huck’s beat-up hand-me-down Ford truck. Wren lifted his customary eyebrow and leaned back in the seat, his long fingers tense on his knee. “You think forming an alli
ance with the Thornwood pack is an option?” His tone indicated he thought otherwise.
“I think,” I said, reaching across the console to cover his hand with mine, “that we need to try.” I peered up at him through my eyelashes, raising my eyebrows. “What happened to Mr. Optimistic from last night?”
“He’s trying to keep you safe,” Wren breathed. “As usual, you’re making it difficult.”
“You love me for it.”
Wren’s expression softened then. The sunlight caught the coin at his throat, and I reached over, running my thumb across its surface in the little V that split his shirt collar. His hand folded over mine. He was looking into my eyes with such intensity it was hard not to feel the burn from it. He had that way about him. I felt it that night in the woods when he let me watch him Change from man to wolf; his bold, unapologetic gaze making me feel stripped raw to the bone. He was looking at me that way now, and I felt myself coming undone.
A pair of hands smacked into the window over his shoulder and I vaulted out of my skin, clutching a hand over my heart. A slow smile spread over Wren’s lips as he turned to roll down his window. Huck, Jamie, and Torrance were standing there laughing. “You should have seen your face,” Torrance said, pointing at me.
“You almost gave me a heart attack!”
“Careful Tor, you know she’s fragile,” Huck said. “Are you recovered from yesterday’s incident?”
“I can’t believe you passed out from looking at a bloody picture,” Jamie added.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I retorted.
“I guess we know that you’ll never be in the medical profession,” Torrance said. “I’m sorry you blacked out though.”
“I take it the whole school knows?”
“It is a small town,” Jamie said, shrugging. “Silver Mountain’s star runner passing out over seeing a bloody picture is unfortunately the only exciting thing that’s happened since…” he trailed off, having realized what he almost said. I narrowed my eyes at him and Huck slapped him upside the back of the head.
“Do you ever think before you speak?” Huck shook his head.
“It’s okay,” Wren said. He clicked out of his seatbelt, and the three of our friends stepped away from his door so he could climb out of the car. I joined them on the sidewalk as we headed for the school’s entrance.
“Has there been any progress in the case?” Torrance asked softly.
Wren shook his head. “The police are grasping at straws. They don’t have a clue what they’re looking for.” And hopefully it stays that way, I thought.
“I’m sorry,” Torrance said, placing her hand on his arm as we walked. “I’m sure they’ll find out what happened soon.”
Jamie snorted. “Not with shit-for-brains Officer Stevenson leading the investigation. He thinks a badge and a uniform makes him tough, but the rest of us remember him crying on the football field when he got his knee blown out during the big rival game against the Cougars his senior year. You remember that?” Jamie nudged Huck in the shoulder. “That was our freshman year, right?”
“Jamie that’s ancient history,” Torrance said, scolding him with one of her disapproving looks. “Besides, the sheriff is the one in charge, not Carl.”
“My dad is a city council member,” Huck said. “I heard they’re thinking of bringing in outside help if Stevenson can’t pull something together soon.”
“Outside help?” I repeated.
“Yeah,” Huck said, “from one of the bigger departments. Stevenson’s not going to like anyone else taking charge on his turf, though. It’s bad enough being a cop in a small town–can you imagine the beating his ego is going to take?”
“What’s his ego got to do with anything?” Torrance asked.
“Because if he can’t solve this case on his own, it goes to show that he’s not cut out for the job. Silver Mountain’s law enforcement is a joke.”
My stomach tightened into knots. Now I understood why Stevenson showed up the day of Niall’s funeral asking all those questions about Remy’s case. He was digging around, trying to uncover old skeletons in Niall’s closet because he didn’t want one of the bigger departments getting involved.
We’d been banking on Niall’s murder case going cold. But I wondered, for a split second, what would happen if they brought in outside help... Was there a chance we might have missed something in the woods? Blaire had cast a spell that destroyed the knife–disintegrated it into millions of miniscule pieces that were now part of the Little Silver Creek. There was nothing that would lead the police back to us–nothing that would ever explain what had happened in the forest.
Then there was another part of me that wondered how many innocent lives had been taken because they’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time–victims by happenstance and Supernatural conflict. It occurred to me that I hadn’t given much thought to the man that Niall had killed all those years ago in order to protect his pack. Clyde Sheridan’s life was taken from him–what had he been forced to leave behind? Did he have a family? Were there kids somewhere out there that had grown up without a father? Nausea raked my gut. Rionach’s moonstone pendant began to heat, the weight expanding beneath my shirt.
You would take someone’s life to save the ones you love, the voice of Darkness whispered to me. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re a protector of the innocent, White One. You live in the gray. You’re no force of Light.
I doubled over, wrapping my arms around my stomach as we entered the lobby. Wren stopped walking and slid his arm across my shoulders and pulled me against his side. “Are you okay?” His eyebrows furrowed.
The others were staring at me with similar concerned expressions. “Must have been something I ate,” I said, straightening. The pain had departed just as fast as it had struck. “I’m okay.”
“Get some water,” Torrance said as the first bell rang.
“I will,” I told her. Torrance nodded and then took off with Huck and Jamie in the opposite direction.
“What happened?”
“I just had a weird pain in my stomach. I’m fine now,” I assured him. I stood up on the tips of my toes and kissed him before turning for the door of my homeroom. He watched me go, and I was sure he stayed there even after I was out of view. I could still sense the weight of the amulet beneath my shirt, humming and swelling with an ancient power. I balled my hands into fists to keep them from shaking; I wondered–not for the first time–if I was stronger than the Darkness I was carrying.
Sweat trickled down the back of my neck, chasing the hollow of my spine as I ran through the forest. Today was distance day, and my muscles were bunching as I climbed over an uneven hummock. We ran a familiar trail that traced through the National Park nowhere near the Hollow, but every shadow caught in my peripheral became an unknown danger. Gnarled branches took on the living shape of a human being, half hidden and crouching in the brush. The crunch of dried leaves under shoes drowned out any other source of sound.
There was a creek bed three miles in, its rocky embankment constructed of smooth stones and exposed roots from nearby trees. We stopped there to take a break and stretch our muscles. It had been almost a month since the team had been permitted to run in the woods, but the wardens had deemed this area clear from dangerous wildlife activity. Team spirit was at an unusual high, and several of the members took advantage of the warm autumn temperature and waded out into the creek to splash around while we waited for the whole group to arrive.
Wren had arrived first, crouched on top of a boulder and lifted his face to the wind. I ambled up beside him, leaning against the cool stone while my chest heaved. “Anything out there?”
“Dead squirrel about a half-mile that way.” He pointed in
a general eastward direction, quirking his lips in a mischievous smile.
I shot him a pointed look.
He jumped down from the boulder, landing soundlessly on the balls of his feet and flipped the hair out of his face. “Relax, Quinn.” His palms rolled over my shoulders. “The rogues won’t come near a large group of humans. They wouldn’t risk exposure.”
I remembered the wild gleam in Nyla’s eyes as she gave the order for the others to attack us when we’d linked ourselves as the Trinity. She was their ring-leader, and she was currently being held in the cells of Thornwood–whatever that meant. Had the others given up the chase after Nyla turned herself in, I wondered?
Wren studied me a minute more, brows puckering as though I was a riddle in need of solving. “You love running in the woods,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I just feel like my whole world has changed and I can’t look at anything the same. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will again.” I let my gaze fall from his lightning scrutiny and looked out at our teammates splashing around in the creek instead. “I lied to you this morning,” I said in a low tone. “About what happened in the lobby.” Clyde Sheridan’s death had been sitting heavy on my heart since this morning, and a storm of conflicting emotions had been brewing through my soul since the Darkness spoke to me.
Wren’s hands dropped away from my shoulders. I heard the sharp intake of air through his nose, and watched as he leaned against the boulder, waiting for me to continue.
“The Darkness whispered to me again,” I admitted with some reluctance. “It said that I wasn’t all good–that I would kill an innocent to save someone I love.” I drew a breath and prepared myself to meet his gaze. “I’m not so sure that’s far from the truth.”
The Calling of the Trinity (Trinity Cycle Book 2) Page 18
