Crimson (The Silver Series Book 3) Page 8
“We found the cutest stuffed animal kitty for Cassie and a dinosaur for Alex,” Grace said, her face all smiles, then her expression fell a little and she turned toward Mrs. Carso. “At least, they felt soft and snuggly.”
Mrs. Carso gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “They’re adorable, darling. The kids are going to love them.”
“You’ll see them soon, don’t worry,” I reassured her despite an ache that formed in my stomach at the thought of phasing again. The pull of the coming night had grown stronger through the day, and I could barely think of the moon without wanting to phase and lose myself in its light. I hated that it had so much control over me.
“Thank you, Kaynan. Thank you so much,” Grace gushed, oblivious of the dark turn my thoughts had taken. She felt for my arm, gave me a hug, then turned with a hand on the kitchen wall. “I’ve got to get ready!”
“Do you need any help?” Mrs. Carso asked with a touch of motherly concern in her voice.
“I think I’ve got it,” Grace called over her shoulder. “I’ll holler if I get lost somewhere.” She left through the door and I couldn’t help but smile at the brightness of her voice.
“It’s a good thing you’re doing,” Mrs. Carso said quietly after she left.
I let out a small breath of air. “She deserves to see. It’s horrible what they did to her there.”
“It’s horrible what they did to both of you,” Mrs. Carso replied, watching me. “I can tell you don’t like to phase. It’s nice of you to do that for her.”
I pushed the thought aside. “Does it bother you to not be able to phase when everyone else does?”
She gave a small smile. “It used to. When my husband was still alive, I wanted more than anything to run with them on full moon nights.” Her smile took on a touch of sadness. “But I’m just grateful for a son who is so responsible and cares so much about others. He’s like his father that way.”
I smiled. “And you. You're both amazing. I don’t know where we’d be if it wasn’t for you opening your home to us.”
She gave me a warm smile. “It’s something to do. Jason took out a life insurance policy before he died, so we’re well cared for. I used to work because it was the only thing I could think of to do to keep my mind from dwelling on everything, but I really enjoy staying home even more. Cooking is my pleasure and here there are plenty of mouths to feed.”
“You can say that again,” I said, thinking of Brock and Jet.
Jaze and the others met at the house after school eager to go to the birthday party. We piled into the gray SUV and set out for the countryside.
“I still can’t believe your dad gave this car to Jaze,” Mrs. Carso said, turning to look at Jet from the passenger seat. “It’s an amazing gift.”
“He said it was worth it to help other stolen children find their way home,” Jet replied. His voice caught at the end and he turned to look out the window. I studied his reflection in the glass, but it gave away nothing about the quiet Alpha who was steel and fire underneath, yet held the tender affections of a beautiful girl who looked at him as though he was her world.
“Good thing you got the grill on it, or Mouse would have smashed it to pieces against that other SUV,” Brock said.
“Good thing,” Mouse agreed quietly from the back seat.
The thought of the attack made my stomach turn. “Are you sure I should be going to this?” I asked for the third time. “What if they track us there?”
“We’ll attack them until no one is left standing, then we’ll find out where they’re hiding, call in the Hunters, and take the whole organization down. Right, Jet?” Brock asked eagerly.
Jet nodded, his gaze still somewhere far beyond the darkening countryside that flew past the window.
“I’m guessing they have to regroup after last night,” Jaze said rationally from the driver’s seat. “I don’t think they expected such a fight when they tracked you down.” He met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “They’ll get the same fight every time they show up,” he promised.
I nodded and Grace squeezed my fingers, her hand resting softly in mine.
Chapter 10
We stopped at a small cottage at the end of a long road of alfalfa fields. The unfamiliar scent of the growing hay, grazing cows, and a newly irrigated field tickled my nose. I fought the urge to investigate further like an eager farm hound and led Grace toward the cheerily lit house. Light filtering past white curtains cast a warm glow against the soft yellow paint of the house. The door opened and a black-haired man that resembled Jet in everything but his underlying edge of mess-with-me-and-I-will-kill-you stepped out and gave a hearty wave.
“Welcome!” he called out. “The more the merrier!”
Two small children, a black-haired boy and a brown-haired girl, pushed past their father and leaped at Jet before he reached the house. He let them tackle him to the ground and then proceeded to tickle them with a big grin on his face. When their laughter filled the night sky, he took off toward the back of the house and the twins followed close behind.
Taye glanced at me and saw the surprised expression on my face. “They bring out the childhood he was never allowed to have,” she said by way of explanation. She smiled in the direction of more laughter behind the house. “I love it when he comes here.”
“Us, too,” Mr. Davies said, giving Taye an affectionate hug. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you for inviting us,” Mrs. Carso said. “The children mean the world to our family.”
“And we come bearing gifts,” Brock called from behind a bunch of party bags he and Mouse carried. At Taye’s exasperated look, he shrugged. “We don’t like to wrap. Besides, bags serve for more than just carrying gifts.” He reached his hand into one and brought out a roll. “They’re extremely handy.”
“I thought I smelled bread before we left,” Nikki exclaimed. Brock offered her one, but she turned it down with a roll of her eyes that made Brock laugh.
“Fine, more for me.”
Jet ran back in our direction, the twins hot on his heels. He ran around the party once, sniffed, then darted at Brock and was off toward of the back of the house again with the roll bag in his hand and an astonished Brock holding nothing but gifts with his mouth open next to us.
He shoved the roll he still held quickly into his mouth. “He’s not getting this one,” he said, spitting out bits of bread as he talked.
“Thank goodness,” Taye replied.
Mr. Davies took half of the bags from Brock and led the way up the steps. “Mrs. Davies is finishing up the potato salad. Hamburgers are barbecuing out back as long as the boys don’t find-“
Brock dropped the bags and vanished through the house before he could finish. Nikki sighed and picked up the bags to set them neatly on the table Mr. Davies indicated.
“Well, that’s one way to keep him busy,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“There’re no hamburgers?” Nikki asked.
“There’s no grill,” Mr. Davies answered and we all laughed. “I’ve been meaning to get one, but Mrs. Davies makes such a mean meatloaf I can’t resist.”
By the time Jet, the twins, and Brock came in, the food was on the table and we ate with the gusto of double our number.
“Seven, wow, are you excited?” Nikki asked Alex and Cassie. Both of the twins nodded, their faces bright and eager. Mr. and Mrs. Davies exchanged proud glances while Jaze reached out to high five the children.
“Are you ready for the party?” Taye asked. The kids nodded and threw anxious glances toward the table of presents.
“This is marvelous meatloaf,” Brock said between mouthfuls. “Far better than any hamburger.”
Mrs. Davies and Mrs. Carso looked at each other. “Now that’s a compliment!” Mrs. Carso said and they both started laughing.
I couldn’t help glancing out the window again as the shadows of night overtook the last hold of day. My skin ached to phase and my bones trembled with the remember
ed knowledge of my wolf shape. Toward the end of the meal I found myself by the dining room window without knowing how I got there. I started in surprise and glanced at the table. The others were quiet, watching me.
“Sorry,” I said, sitting back down.
Jaze gave an understanding smile and tipped his head at me. “This is his first full moon,” he explained to the Davies. “He’s never felt the pull before.”
Mr. Davies looked at me expectantly. “I knew there was something different about you, but I didn’t want to be nosy. You smell different, you know?”
“So I’ve been told,” I replied in an even tone.
“What’s your story?” Mr. Davies pressed. His wife squeezed his hand and he smiled apologetically. “That is, if you want to talk about it.”
I glanced at the children. They had drifted to the presents and now poked the bags, eagerly guessing what was inside. Jet and Brock guessed with them, throwing them off and distracting them from our conversation.
“I was killed in a car accident, then woke up a werewolf in a lab. Grace and I escaped and Jaze found us,” I said quietly.
Mr. Davies’ brow wrinkled. “You were turned into a werewolf after you died? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“That’s horrible,” Mrs. Davies breathed, a hand to her mouth. “How could they do that?”
Mrs. Carso touched my shoulder. “We’re just grateful he was there to help Grace escape. Without him, she’d still be trapped in that horrible place.”
Grace nodded, her lip between her teeth.
“So you’ve never phased before?” Mr. Davies asked, striving for a lighter topic.
“Not because of a full moon,” I replied.
He grinned. “Then we might have three new wolves out tonight. What a treat!” He looked at his children who searched eagerly through the gifts. “Speaking of treats, should we have the cake and ice cream before they figure out every present?”
Mrs. Davies and Mrs. Carso cleared away the plates with the help of the girls, then Jet carried over a cake shaped like the moon. The children blew out their candles and tears shone bright in both of the parent Davies' eyes as Jet helped them take out the candles and cut the cake. They held each other close and watched their children like someone who had been given something precious and would never take it for granted.
“What happened to them?” I asked Mrs. Carso quietly while the children opened their presents.
She smiled at Jaze who stood next to us. “You want to answer that one?”
He nodded. “Jet was raised a fighting werewolf, like a pit bull in illegal arena battles. He’d been kidnapped when he was only an infant and though the Davies never stopped searching, they couldn’t find him. By the time we heard of the battles, Jet was sixteen and was about to be put to death because he won a fight he was supposed to have lost.” Something dark crossed Jaze’s expression and then vanished. “Luckily, he found his family after coming home with us and was reunited with them.”
“How long has he been home?” Grace asked.
“Only a couple of months. I think it’s still hard for any of them to believe this is permanent,” Jaze said softly.
I watched the way Jet ruffled Alex’s hair, then bent down to whisper something in Cassie’s ear. She ran and tickled Brock with a pink dress-up feather boa from one of the bags and took off giggling around the table. Jet watched them with such awe, every touch gentle as though he was afraid he would break them. Once in a while he glanced at his parents, and the expression of love in their eyes seemed to cut him to the core with both happiness and pain. When he paused and looked like he wanted to bolt from the room, Taye’s soft touch on his arm brought him back to himself.
The longing for my own family rose in my chest with such intensity I could barely breathe.
“Your parents need you,” Mrs. Davies said. I met her eyes in surprise and she gave me a knowing look. “Parents are nothing without the children that are their world.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that easy.”
“They love you no matter what, Kaynan. Go home to them, if just to let them know you're alive.” She looked back at Jet. “When we met Will,” she smiled, “I mean Jet, after Jaze rescued him from the fighting ring, it almost killed me to let him out of my sight again. It took almost losing him for the second time to accept that every moment together was a gift and I shouldn’t try to control each situation. Having him back after thinking him dead or worse is like breathing again after drowning. Your parents are drowning without you.”
“They think I’m dead,” I said softly.
A look of pain touched her eyes. “Than give them their son back.”
I wanted to tell her that I would rather give them their daughter instead, but the words caught in my throat. I clenched my hands to keep tears from falling and turned back to watch the children unwrap the rest of the packages.
“It’s close to nightfall,” Mr. Davies said with an expectant look in his eyes. He took Mrs. Davies’ hand and squeezed it, making her smile.
A pit of nerves seethed in my stomach. I knew I needed to phase so that Grace could see the children’s first full moon, but I worried that it wouldn’t work like it did before. I worried about disappointing Grace, and also about how the others would look at me after they saw my crimson fur. Maybe they would finally realize what an abomination I really was.
I touched Grace’s shoulder and whispered to her that I was going into the next room for a minute. She gave me an understanding smile and turned her head to listen to me leave. The conversations around us faltered slightly, then started again as though they hadn’t noticed my departure. It felt like the whole room expected some sort of miracle that I wouldn’t be able to give.
I shut the door to the Davies’ guest bedroom until only a crack remained, then took off my clothes and closed my eyes to wait for the change. When nothing happened, I opened one eye and looked around. Light from the lamp outside trickled through the yellow curtains and made swirled patterns on the dark blue carpeted floor. My bones ached and muscles trembled, but I didn’t know how to start the phase.
After a few futile minutes of trying, I remembered Grace’s words about phasing back into human form. I put my hand in the light from the window and let it play across the back of my fingers, pretending it was the soft caress of moonlight my soul remembered from the night before. A slight breeze brushed across the window pane and I remembered the way smells were heightened to the point of perfect clarity, the way my mind categorized them and stored every minuscule detail in case I needed it later.
I thought of the scent of the dried sage and sandy earth from our walk in Utah, the feeling of the dirt beneath my paws and the way it touched my nose with the memory of snow and winter’s chill even though we walked through the last days of summer. My bones quivered when I remembered the scent of the rabbit, the way my muscles tensed and instinct bade me to give chase, to forget the human world lose myself in the promise of the wild.
Something touched my memory. We had visited the zoo many times when I was younger. My father had a friend who worked there, and on one particular occasion the zoo was open for night access to workers and patrons. I ditched my family when we got inside like I always did, and found myself wandering through the forest exhibits. Barn owls blinked at me from their tree perches while mice scurried across the path in search of food from the day’s tourists. I was standing by a cougar exhibit when a sound reverberated through the air.
The haunting song caught at my soul even though I didn’t know what made it. I followed the sound to its source and saw a wolf in an enclosure on the hill sitting in the security of the trees and howling. The howl was so mournful and lonely it threatened to break my heart, and when there was no answering cry, the look in the eyes of the wolf haunted my memory for days. After that, I often felt like the wolf howling to reach someone who understood, and having no one answer.
The irony of truly being a wolf brought a small smile to my face ev
en as my nose and mouth elongated, fangs lengthened, and the dark red fur ran up my arms and down my legs. My joints shifted, bones changed length and shape, and my ears became pointed and moved to prick forward on my head. The nausea I had felt at the thought of becoming the wolf again faded, leaving only a growing joy at the freedom of leaving my haunted memories to my human side.
Chapter 11
I stretched, yawned, and shook my fur to get used to the wolf form, then nosed the door open and padded quietly down the carpeted hall. I kept my eyes on Grace when I entered the room, but my sharp ears caught the small intakes of breath at my dark red coat. I glanced at Jaze and took a small breath of relief at the lack of judgment on his face. His eyes met mine and he merely nodded. I went to Grace’s side.
She still sat on the couch, one hand hanging casually over the side. I touched her hand with my nose and sent her the image I saw of the room. She gasped, straightened up, then bent and put her arms around my neck. “It’s so nice to see again,” she said softly, her voice catching.
“So it really works?” Mr. Davies asked, his voice a touch tighter than before.
Grace nodded. “It’s amazing. He can show me everything he’s seeing. It’s like- it’s like a miracle.” Her voice trembled when I lifted my gaze and looked slowly around the room. I met Jaze’s eyes once more, then looked at Nikki, Taye, Jet, Brock, Mouse, Mrs. Carso, and the Davies. “I can finally see you,” she whispered. Something soft splashed on top of my head.
“Oh, honey,” Mrs. Carso said. She gave Grace a big hug, then let her go and dropped to her knees in front of me. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said, her eyes bright. “But I’m glad it works.” She gave me a hug as well and ruffled my fur in a way that would be demeaning as a human, but that as a wolf I actually enjoyed. I decided to take a chance and sent her what I saw. She gasped and sat back quickly on her heels. “He showed me,” she said, her voice higher than usual. “I saw what he was looking at!”
“Can I see?” Jaze asked. When I nodded, he put a hand on my shoulder. I sent him my view of the room. He dropped his hand and stared at me. “It really works!”