The Calling of the Trinity (Trinity Cycle Book 2)

by Brittany Elise

  He reached up as if just noticing it for the first time. “No, head wounds always bleed more but it isn’t deep.”

  “You and Ryker should hang back with Blaire and I’ll lead us out of this mess,” Wren said. A glower passed over Ryker’s features, simmering in his dark eyes. Apparently it didn’t matter if Wren was part of his pack or not–Weres (namely alpha Weres) did not like taking direction from another guy. Even if said direction gave you an excuse to hang back with the girl you were so obviously crushing on…

  “I can walk with my sister,” Bryna insisted, jaw setting as she shot a look of mistrust in Ryker’s direction.

  “I’m fine, Bryna. Why don’t you keep a lookout for that owl, yeah?”

  Bryna pressed her lips into a tight line, straightened the straps of her pack and marched forward.

  Ryker picked up Blaire’s pack, hoisting it up over his arm. “Thanks,” Blaire said with a grateful nod. I slipped my arm under her shoulder as we started across the bank. “I just need to get my blood flowing again, and then I’ll be right as rain.”

  I pressed my lips into a smile, knowing better than to coddle her. When I concentrated, I could feel her chagrin–she hated that this had happened to her and that she’d shown fear. She was used to being the kind of person that swooped in and handled everyone else’s troubles, not the one that created them.

  Wren found a spot about a half mile up where we could climb out of the gully. The dirt wall there was maybe six-feet high, and there were roots sticking out of the ground that would help propel us up and over. Blaire sighed when we reached it. Wren was already at the top, helping pull Bryna up.

  “You want me to carry you?” Ryker asked.

  Blaire turned her sharp gaze on him. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not yet dead.” She hobbled up to the embankment and offered her hand to Wren. He locked on to her wrist and pulled her out of the gully as if she weighed no more than a sack of apples.

  “You know,” I said to Ryker in a low tone, “she’s not swayed on looks alone. If you like her, you’re really going to have to work at it. She’s not fond of werewolves.”

  Ryker chuckled dryly. “Thanks for the tip.”

  “Anytime.” I grinned and walked up to the embankment to let Wren pull me out. “How’s that arm?”

  “Fine,” he replied. “Stop worrying about me.”

  “No chance of that.”

  “Owl!” Hailey shouted, pointing toward a large live oak in front of us. Its hulking branches were draped in light green Spanish moss, and the owl was nestled on a branch about ten feet up. He was staring down at us with those peculiar diamond-like eyes. It blinked, ruffling its soft tawny feathers.

  “Looks like we’re still going in the right direction,” Bryna said.

  The owl took flight, stretching its graceful wings as it swooped through the trees. We adjusted our course and continued following along. To my surprise, Hailey asked a question about the food in Ireland, and both Blaire and Bryna began sharing stories about their favorite recipes and the best places to eat overseas. The talk of hot, hearty meals was making my stomach grumble. We’d packed basic things that would keep up our strength and not weigh our backpacks down. But after dining on granola bars, nuts, and dried fruit for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, one started to miss the idea of a greasy slice of cheesy pizza.

  “I could go for a huge helping of fish and chips right now,” Hailey said, echoing my thoughts. “And whatever that boxty stuff is sounds pretty good, too.”

  “We could always Change into our wolf forms and hunt down a couple of rabbits,” Ryker suggested.

  I made a face. “I’m not that hungry.”

  “Rabbit is delicious–especially raw,” Hailey informed me.

  “Bunnies are too cute to eat.”

  “Oh please,” Hailey said in a condescending tone, “you better not be one of those crazy animal-rights activists that don’t agree with people hunting.”

  “I didn’t say that, I just–”

  Someone laughed. It was a laugh that had me slowing my pace and looking through the trees. It sounded like child’s laughter–light and musical.

  “–Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “Someone was laughing.” I stopped walking, straining my eyes to see through the branches up ahead. “It sounded like a little kid.”

  Blaire frowned beside me. “Mountain lions and bobcats sound like human children when they scream; maybe you heard a forest cat?”

  “I didn’t hear anything,” Wren said–which meant that I was probably hearing things in my head because werewolves had super-hearing abilities, and if they hadn’t heard anything, I was definitely losing my mind.

  I was just about to declare my insanity when I heard it again. This time it was behind me. I spun around, catching a glimpse of something satin–moss-green fabric shimmering in the light before disappearing behind a tree. I moved towards it but Wren caught a fistful of the back of my shirt, stopping me.

  “You didn’t see–”

  “No, and you’re certainly not going to go exploring things the rest of us can’t see or hear.” He shot me a knowing look.

  “The Earth element is strong here,” Blaire said, “I can feel it. Not quite like the Nexus, but something as equally charged.”

  I started forward again but Wren pulled me back. “Would you let me go?” I spun on him, working his fingers from my shirttail.

  “It’s not sinister,” Blaire told him, hoping that would help rein in his defensive instincts. The guy had a protective streak a mile wide, which was nice for some things, but with others, unquestionably irritating.

  His jaw tightened, and he let go of my shirt with reluctance as I started for the patch of sunlight where I’d seen the silky green thing disappear. Wren was right behind me of course, so close that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. I turned around the trunk and heard more giggling coming from my left. I whipped around in that direction, catching a flash of something–skin, maybe?

  The giggling lifted; tangling around my head like it was coming from every direction in the forest. Another flash. Definitely an arm–slender, like it belonged to a female. I jogged to catch up, but when I circled the tree, there was nothing but a small, patch of pale pink flowers growing out of the moss.

  “Eastern Springbeauty,” I said, bending to pluck one of the buds. I twirled the delicate star-shaped flower between my thumb and index finger. “These only bloom from March to May around here,” I said. “My mother taught me about them when I was a girl. She had a plant book she kept around for potions and things.”

  Blaire took the flower, studying it as her eyebrows knitted together in concentration. She glanced up at Bryna. “Perhaps we’ve got ourselves a woodland nymph.”

  “A What?”

  “You can hear laughter the rest of us can’t,” Blaire began to explain. “Nymphs are said to be minor Greek deities who inhabit forests and rule over nature. They’re a carefree spirited bunch, playful and beautiful.”

  “Greek deity,” I repeated. “In the letter, my mother said the enchantress went by the name of Winter Fengári, and we know ‘Fengári’ is Greek for moon…” I paused to wet my lips. “I wonder if this is another clue about who the enchantress is.”

  “Woodland nymphs are mythological beings,” Bryna informed us. “We’ve no proof of their existence.”

  Blaire held up the spring flower. “It’s October, Bryna. Have you an explanation for this?” She didn’t of course.

  I chewed the inside of my lip, glancing up to see that Wren was watching me, his amber eyes poised on my face. This was a clue–I knew it in my gut
. “Let’s keep moving,” I said, “we need to get to the cottage before nightfall.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Cottage by the Sea

  The scent of sea salt was thick in the air. I lost track of how long we’d been walking, but I knew the sun was sinking low in the Western Hemisphere, leaving paintbrush strokes of rose and gold through the sky. The ground was sloping again, growing softer as we approached the beach. A mixture of excitement and fear swelled in my chest as I looked ahead and saw a stretch of dark blue through the break in the trees.

  Wren caught my wrist, his palm warm against my skin. He stepped in front of me, half crouching as we approached the end of the tree line. His face lifted to the air, decoding all the surrounding scents. That first gust of wind coming in from the open sea washed through me. The light from the golden sun danced across the surf, the whitecaps turning to burnished glitter before crashing against the shoreline. I gazed out into the deep blue as the sound of the waves filled my ears.

  Wren shifted, sticking close to the tree line as his predatory gaze scanned the beach. I followed along, heart beating fast when I saw the arc of the ocean stretching out into the shape of a C where the open ocean met the sound. The water was calm there, still moving towards the shoreline but in tiny ripples. The beach tapered off and the coastline became more jagged, dotted by large rocky boulders that formed the ocean’s break line. It was there beneath the twisting branches of an old knobby oak that the cottage sat–nestled against the back end of the forest and the shore.

  Wren bristled, coming to an unexpected stop in front of me. I smacked into his spine and let out a grumble as I righted myself. “What is it?” I whispered.

  “I don’t smell anything.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “No, I mean, there’s no one here.” He nodded toward the cottage. It was a small, two-story building that at some point had been painted but years of neglect and coastal storms had taken its toll. The roof slouched, its wooden beams yawning as though we’d woken it from a restless sleep.

  The barn owl swooped down from the forest, flapping its wings as it descended and perched itself on the roof. “This is the right place,” I said.

  “We should scout the perimeter,” Wren said as Ryker approached. “I’ll circle the cottage if you and Hailey want to make a sweep of the woods.”

  The muscle in Ryker’s jaw flexed over the bone. He turned those unforgiving ebony eyes on me and nodded. Wren was already undressing.

  Hailey was the first to Change, clearing a large boulder in her wolf form as she leapt into the forest with Ryker trailing close behind. Wren crept along the boulders, circling the back of the cottage before disappearing around its side.

  “They are magnificent in their animal skins,” Blaire said, coming to stand beside me. She’d pulled on a jacket from her backpack, but it wasn’t until I saw her that I even felt the chill in the sea air.

  “How’s your knee?”

  “Bruised, but I suspect I’ll live.” She winked.

  Wren appeared around the corner, tipping his head toward the cottage and motioning for us to come inside. We followed.

  A stagnant scent of decaying wood and salty air filled my nostrils when we entered the cottage. It mixed with forgotten embers of a fire that had long ago burned out. Soot and ash blackened the floorboards in front of the hearth. The wooden mantel was bare, save for an empty glass jar that had frosted over from dust and salt damage. I circled the fireplace, finding a stairwell that led to a narrow hall on the top floor. The cramped quarters contained only two sets of doors. With a little effort I managed to wriggle the doors open to reveal two threadbare bedrooms. The bedframes were made from brass posts; each still contained a mattress and a long-forgotten faded quilt. “This place is a ghost town,” I muttered under my breath as Wren shoved against the bedroom door with his muzzle. He nudged the small of my back, gesturing for me to head to the living room area. I eased myself down the steps and found Blaire and Bryna talking in low voices. They stopped when they saw us.

  “There you are,” Blaire said, working her lips into a smile.

  “I was exploring upstairs. There are only two bedrooms.”

  “There’s a bathroom down here but of course, no running water,” Bryna said.

  “It doesn’t appear anyone has been here in quite some time,” Blaire said. Beside me, Wren chuffed in agreement. He turned his head toward the doorway, left ear shifting like an antenna. Hailey strolled in, still in her wolf form.

  “I take it the woods are clear?”

  She nodded. Ryker’s massive frame took up most of the doorway. He stayed on the porch though, looking at the cottage as if he feared it might collapse if he entered. The sea breeze drifted through the strands of his coat, and he lifted his muzzle to the wind, nostrils flaring.

  “I know this doesn’t look promising right now, but, this is where we’re supposed to be. I can feel it.” Some of the tension that I had been carrying around since we started our trek through the coastal wilderness had settled. It wasn’t gone, necessarily, it was just resting. The whole atmosphere seemed to be lying dormant–like a thing in between. It was hard to describe the exact meaning, but it felt similar to the way the amulet would awaken now and then, trying to get me to use it, or hurt me when it tried to protect itself. The power was neither here nor there–past or present–just existing. I pinched the moonstone between my thumb and forefinger, stroking the glossy surface; sleeping now.

  “Let’s get settled then,” Blaire suggested. “Dusk will be here before we know it. We can gather some wood and get a fire going before it gets too cold.”

  Ryker barked, and I about rocketed clean out of my skin. I clutched a fistful of my shirt above my heart and shot Ryker a serious look. Wren grumbled beside me, and I imagined that was the wolf version of telling Ryker off. He turned from the doorway and started towards the ocean. Wren and Hailey followed. “Where the heck do they think they’re going?” I asked.

  Blaire and I exchanged a look and then decided to follow them to the shore. Ryker was wading into the surf, water up to his elbows. Hailey trudged in after him, but Wren looked back over his shoulder, finding me before following suit.

  “They’re bloody mad, that water’s not ten degrees,” Bryna said.

  “Celsius,” Blaire said, gauging my confused expression.

  “Oh, right,” I said. “That might be unpleasant for us but they probably don’t even feel the cold.”

  The wolves swam out deeper as if to prove my point. They spread out from one another, staying equal distance apart before turning back to face the shoreline. At first, I thought they might have just been enjoying a nice dip in the ocean, but then I realized they were using strategy–hunting strategy. The water towards the shoreline began to ripple at the surface. The tide was low, revealing long stretches of sandbars that crested above the waterline. They were herding fish to those areas, hoping to trap them in the shallows. Several seconds passed before I caught sight of fins breaking the surf as the wolves chased them up onto the shore.

  “Looks like Hailey will be getting those fish and chips after all,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

  “Let’s just hope one of them packed a knife,” Blaire said.

  “Why? You don’t like your fish covered in scales?” I teased. “I find the texture to provide a satisfying crunch.”

  Blaire chuckled. “Right, well, I think I saw a rusty old bucket back at the cottage to hold your scaly fish, I’ll be right back.”

  Bryna had already left, searching the tree line for broken branches and twigs to use for firewood. I climbed up on one of the boulders, letting the sea breeze tangle through the long strands of my hair while I watched the
show. Wren was the first to catch a fish. It was decent sized with russet-colored scales. He trotted out of the ocean practically wagging his tail. Blaire returned with the rusted pail and Wren dropped his fish in with a clunk. I noticed puncture wounds in its head and knew the kill had been quick and effortless, delivered by his razor sharp canines.

  “This whole outdoor survival thing is a breeze,” I joked.

  “You say that now, but another day without running water will have us all aching for a hot bath,” Blaire said.

  Ryker was the next out of the water with an equally impressive fish. He dropped it into the bucket and then started back towards the shallows as Hailey came trotting out with a fish bigger than the other two. The fish flopped between her smiling jaws before she crushed its skull between her teeth.

  We had a total of six fish within the next fifteen minutes, and Bryna had gotten a fire started on the beach–shielded from the wind by the boulders. The Weres had disappeared momentarily to shift back to their human forms and returned a few beats later fully clothed.

  Wren exited the cottage in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt that hugged his chiseled frame. His ocean damp hair swept across his forehead, and when he leaned down to kiss me, I smelled the salt on his skin. I’d wanted to see him standing next to the ocean, and in the fading light of day, the view did not disappoint. He climbed up on my boulder, sitting behind me as he pulled me to his chest.

  “Hello you,” I said, reaching up to touch the side of his face. “That was some nice fishing you did out there.”

  He chuckled lightly, the deep sound vibrating through his chest. “Hailey will never let us live down the fact that she caught the biggest fish.”

  “Yeah, and I think she ate it raw.” I made a face.

  “Sushi isn’t half as bad as scales,” Blaire said, looking up from her spot by the campfire. She’d fashioned a makeshift spit over the fire while Ryker skinned the fish. They worked together side by side in near-perfect coordination. I wasn’t about to point that out, seeing as how the pair were refraining from all forms of verbal communication. In my opinion, actions spoke far louder than words.