Razed, page 4
“Huh,” I muttered after a moment of contemplation. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“Wait.” He stopped me as we broached the halfway point. His fingers gently touched my shoulder and turned me to face him. “My mother really told you she’d rather see me back with Pilar than be with you?”
I nodded.
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Your mom is in her sixties. There’s nothing you can say to her to suddenly make her change her mind set, so why bother?”
“So that she knows she can’t talk to people like that. Especially not someone I love.”
“Save that battle for something else. Knowing it bothers you is enough for me.”
He slung an arm around my shoulder, and we resumed walking.
“In all fairness,” Bodhi’s voice interrupted the silence. “Your mother isn’t my biggest fan either.”
“She’s definitely not. But only a small part is because you’re not black. Mostly it’s because you’re human.”
“Ouch.” He stopped and again faced me. “Would it help if I were black?”
“Why? Are you a chameleon?”
“Smart ass,” he replied with a smirk. We started walking again. “Does your mom think your dad would have stayed if he were black?”
“What does it matter? We needed him. He bailed.”
“Have you ever tried to find him?”
“It’s easier for him to contact us than the other way round.”
“Physically easier, but not necessarily emotionally.”
“That falls under the, not my problem category,” I replied softly.
Bodhi opened the door and ushered me into the most expensive foyer I ever had the misfortune of entering. From the marbled flooring with its multilayered chandelier, to the double-sided staircase that faced the door. Despite the age of the house, the interior concept supported an open floor plan. At least for a handful of the common rooms. Living, dining, kitchen, and a sitting room, all seamlessly blended, and led from one to the other. And all around the central staircase.
“There you are,” Bella called out.
She approached from the sitting room on the left. Technically she approached from a room behind the sitting room, followed closely by Will who beamed a smile at me. Bella wrapped me in a hug and added a squeeze at the end.
“Beto left to show you where to park an hour ago.”
“Barely ten minutes,” Bodhi rebutted.
“At least thirty.” She followed her words with a wink, and then gestured to the garment bag. “Is this your dress?”
“It is.”
Upon confirmation she plucked it from my arms and called out. “Lyla?”
A woman in a literal maid outfit entered from the kitchen down the hall.
“This is Miss Reeves’s dress. Put it with the others and make sure to get her shoes, accessories, and jewelry before we leave for the rehearsal dinner.”
Bella handed the garment bag to the maid. She turned back to face me in what can only be considered a dismissive manner. At least from Lyla’s point of view.
“We’re having everything brought to the country club tonight, so nothing is forgotten tomorrow,” my friend informed me.
“That makes sense, I guess?” I nodded and looked to Will.
Bodhi backed off to allow Will to place a hand on my hip. Leaning in, he pressed his cheek to mine and made a kissing sound. “Don’t look at me. Us guys are getting dressed here.”
“Glad you could find the time to join us.”
I cringed at the sound of Blanca’s voice. Living the first thirty years in Spain left her with a deep accent. She learned to weaponize it over sixty odd decades on the planet. Her tongue morphed sentences into daggers. The clacking of her heels heralded her approach. Despite her age, every time I saw her, she wore heels high enough to add several inches to her height. She moved down the hallway between the dual staircase like an evil supermodel in a pant suit that matched her auburn hair.
Bodhi placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. His presence at my back reminded me of how it felt in Germany when I belonged to something. When I belonged to others. I missed that sensation. Funny how and when things hit. Standing in a hostile hallway with only Bodhi, made me miss my old pack more than being surrounded by werewolves last night.
“I cannot conceive what could have been so important as to have kept you this long.”
Being ninety-nine percent sure she spoke for dramatic effect, and not for an actual reply, I remained silent.
“Nancy is expecting us at the country club to begin rehearsal in an hour, which means we need to leave here in thirty minutes and,” she gave my jeans and sweater a look of grotesque disdain. “You clearly need to freshen up.”
“Mother. Be nice,” Bodhi requested.
“Nice is a city in France.”
“Nēs,” I muttered the correct pronunciation.
Bella tucked her lips together to keep the smile hidden.
“Excuse me, dear?” Despite being shorter than me, she managed to look down her nose at me. “Did you have something to offer?”
“I said it’s a place a peace,” I lied.
“You’ve been?”
I shook my head. “No, but—.”
“—Rodrigo took me for one of our anniversaries,” she declared. “We spent the entire month traveling through France...”
I tuned out the rest of Blanca’s monolog. I promised Arsinoë I wouldn’t let her get to me, and I meant to make good on that deal.
“Hello Amina.” I stopped my shoulders from physically slumping in defeat. Pilar walked toward us from the same direction Bella and Will arrived. “Good to see you.”
She took her time approaching. Probably to give the full impact of the knee length black knit dress. Did she purposely add an extra sway to her hips? What had Bodhi seen in her? If I were braver, I would have directed that question at myself. His ex and I had absolutely nothing in common.
I gave her credit for not flirting openly with her ex-husband, and for not getting close, but maybe the distance had been the intentional. Leaning against the banister opposite him provided a feast for his eyes.
“Hello Pilar,” I greeted.
“Lyla,” Blanca waved a hand in my direction. “Show Amina upstairs.”
“Yes ma’am. Shall I put her things in Mr. Beto’s room?”
“Heaven’s no. I had you prepare the room on the top floor for her.”
“Mother.” Bodhi chastised. His fingers gripped my hip a little tighter.
“What?” Blanca asked innocently.
He sighed. His breath caressed my temple a second before his lips. “I’ll be right up.” He whispered.
“I got it,” I said when I beat Lyla to my suitcase handle.
I raised my eyebrow in a questioning look when she seemed unsure what to do. After another moment of hesitation and a glance at Blanca, she led the way up the steps. I listened to the hushed conversation below as we rounded the corner, and I followed Lyla to a second set of stairs.
“The top floor, mother?” I heard Bodhi ask.
“It has a view of the woods. Don’t people like her like that type of scenery?”
“Jesus mother really...”
“Beto...” Bella chimed in before I lost the conversation.
Halfway down the hall on the third floor Lyla opened a door to another flight of stairs up to the attic. More of a studio apartment than a room, the only lacking amenities were a kitchen and a separate entrance.
Blanca meant it as a snub, but it reminded me of the same oasis my aunt’s house provided. Two rugs, one in the bedroom area, and one in the living room space, covered oak floors. My wolf and I looked forward to walking barefooted on it as soon as Lyla left. I placed my suitcase on the foot of a bed larger than full, but smaller than queen, bracketed by windows at the headboard. She wasn’t wrong. The windows overlooked a gorgeous treelined view.
“If you leave your accessories and jewelry on the desk, I can collect them after you leave,” Lyla instructed.
I looked around the room and my eyes settled on the desk in question. “Thank you, but I can leave them in the foyer, so you don’t have to climb so many stairs.”
“The desk will be fine, ma’am,” she replied and left me to my own devices.
I should have unpacked the outfit for dinner and the items for the wedding, but after popping the latches on my luggage, I returned to the window and stared out.
To the left were docks and a view of the lake with lights of other homes twinkling across the distance. Towering snow-covered evergreens started several yards away, thickening as the woods spread from the backyard, and followed along the waterline. Lake Geneva smelled nothing like Germany, but the scenery from the window pulled me back to my time in the country several years ago. My meeting with Engle, or the countryside setting, roused my nostalgia.
Could werewolves suffer from PTSS? Some humans didn’t believe we could be traumatized. After all, how horrific does something have to be to impart trauma on a monster? Shaking myself from the memory, I began removing what I needed to get ready for the dinner, and what I needed to leave out for the wedding, from my suitcase. A knock on the door at the bottom of the stairs had me turn to face the opening. Bodhi’s scent preceded him up the stairs. When he reached the top, he leaned against the banister. Arms crossed over his chest. Legs crossed at the ankle. A look of annoyance and dejection resided in the lines of his brow. The latter concerned me enough to give him my full attention.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I know you have to get ready, I just wanted to say, I’m sorry.”
I waved a hand dismissively. “You don’t need to apologize for your mother.”
He pushed away from the post he leaned against. The frown deepening as he made his way to one of the windows. He glared out into the setting sun, and then turned back to face me.
“I’m serious, Ace. I’m sorry for this,” he gestured to the room. “I have no idea why she put you up here when there are empty—”
I touched a finger to his lips. “Shh. I have more than an idea, but the joke’s on her. I like it up here.”
“You do?”
“Remember that pin?” I placed my hands on his shoulder and slid my fingers up, locking them behind his neck.
“Yeah?” Bodhi placed his hands on my hips, and slid them around my body until he interlocked his fingers at the small of my back.
“When we get in from our respective bachelor and bachelorette parties, I say we remove it.”
“I like how you think, Miss Reeves.”
I used my fingers to urge his head down and suckled on his bottom lip, disengaging completely before he could reciprocate.
“Hey.” He protested.
“You heard your mother. Nancy is expecting us. We must leave in thirty minutes.”
“Twenty by now,” he teased.
“Out.”
Go, now!
Closing the door behind me with a quiet click, I heeded my wolf’s urging. The depth of the snow made running difficult, probably comical had anyone in the mansion been awake to witness it. Fortunately, the sounds of slumber made my much-needed escape possible. I decided before the bachelorette party ended, we needed to run. Every time I hung out with Trish and Ava, they asked what it was like to be a werewolf. As if they hadn’t asked the same question the last time we got together. Pilar only made matters worse by turning every conversation about Bella’s pending nuptials, into a trip down memory lane for when she and Bodhi got married. The three of them compounded with the third night of the full moon turned the situation into a toxic mixture. It was run, or risk ripping someone’s throat out tomorrow during the reception.
My socks became waterlogged by the time I reached the tree line behind Hayfield Manor. Only natural fibers survived the change, and despite countless searches I’ve not been able to find shoes made from one hundred percent natural fibers. At least I had the forethought to bring my all-cotton jersey style dress.
I walked a few yards into the shadow of the woods before I let the shift settle into our bones, and released control to my wolf. I collapsed to my hands and knees as bones and muscles shifted. I knew from watching others, the snaps and pops that echoed in my head were silent to the outside world. An endorphin rush created pleasure from an experience that by rights, should have been wrought with pain. Fur barely darker than the snow we stood on flowed over skin and clothing, warming our body from the outside in.
We stood and shook ourselves. Her mouth fell open. I reigned her in just before she pushed the howl from our throat.
Not our place, I reminded her.
She took off at a run. The denseness of the woods limited the depth of the snow and made it easier to move. She opened our mouth and took in the smells. The evergreen. The droppings from forest creatures. The crispness of the lake to our left. Domestic animals. Other wolves.
We enjoyed the run. She took us along a path that paralleled the lake and allowed for us to feel the crunch of snow under her paws, and then ran headlong into a snow drift. If wolves could laugh, she would have. She rolled us around on her back letting the movement tickle her fur. We enjoyed the frolicking so much we almost missed the closeness of another wolf’s scent.
Laying on the ground, we scanned the woods with our ears, listening to every sound the forest offered up. She lifted her head and sniffed. We smelled him. He wasn’t close and he was alone. Not a threat, on surface.
She stood. Her tongue lolled to the side to taste his scent. She wanted to give chase. She spread our toes in the snow and released a low growl. She didn’t like being followed. Neither did I, but I reminded her we ran in someone else’s territory.
Time to go back, I encouraged.
She chuffed, but after another moment of listening to the sounds of our invisible interloper, she turned and bound off in the direction of Hayfield Manor. Her return pace, much slower than when we left. Could it be Engle? Doubtful since it didn’t smell like him, but it could have been someone in his pack.
Her running slowed to a trot as we approached the edge of Hayfield Manor. She stopped and sniffed again. The scent remained but further. Convinced we were safe, she released control and let the shift overtake us. Once, I tried to explain to a human friend the essence of shifting. I likened it to that first stretch in the morning upon waking. Goosebumps running the length of the body chased by that shiver that runs up the spine. From the look on her face, I knew my explanation fell short. I never tried after that.
Words failed to provide a just description anyway.
Slipping back into the butler’s pantry, I removed my waterlogged socks and listened to someone opening the refrigerator door in the next room. I peeked out and saw Bella place a bakery box on the kitchen island along with a glass of milk.
The bride-to-be moved like someone who secretly switched to water instead of vodka halfway through her bachelorette party. A secret between the two of us since I had done the switching. Pilar turned a screening of Bella’s favorite movie, The Princess Bride, into a drinking game with rules designed for maximum drunkenness.
Someone says as you wish... drink.
Buttercup... drink.
Inconceivable... drink.
Six-fingered man... drink.
The list went on and would have been a great idea, if the party took place any other night except the one before the nuptials. Bella and I were the only two who didn’t return to Hayfield Manor stumbling. Werewolf metabolism for the win.
Even though I cleared my throat she jumped when I entered.
“Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me. Where did you come from?”
I hiked my thumb over my shoulder, indicating outside.
“Couldn’t sleep either?”
I bobbed my head up and down.
“Isn’t it cold out there?”
I filled a glass with water and downed it before clearing my throat. I always found my voice a bit rough after a change, but water helped to lubricate the works. It was why my wolf liked to howl after she shifted.
“That’s part of the point. The cold is exhilarating.”
“I think it would just make me even more awake,” Bella said and gave me a lopsided smile. “Want to split some wedding cake with me?”
“Where’d you get wedding cake from?”
“Samples. Mother ordered an extensive selection.”
I peered inside the box and saw upwards of ten bite-sized samples covering the bottom. No two pieces sported the same icing coloring.
“These are still fresh.” I didn’t mean the words to come out as surprised as they sounded.
“They’re only a couple days old. The cake is being made as we speak.”
I glanced at the clock on the microwave. According to the digital display, it was just after two. I whistled and promptly clamped a hand over my mouth.
“Trust me, no one heard that,” she said and plucked out a pink cake with chocolate frosting.
I opted for one that smelled and tasted like lemon frosting, covering a lighter flavored lemon cake.
“You ready? In less than twelve hours you become Mrs. Bella Granger.”
“Thank you for not saying Mrs. Adam Granger.”
I winked and grabbed another cake.
“You know, when mother first started in with interviewing wedding planners, and dress makers, and the rest of it, I just wanted to go to Vegas and elope. But now,” she rested her elbow on the granite top and grinned. “It feels like a fairytale. Does that sound corny?”
“A thousand percent.” We shared giggles. “But there’s nothing wrong with corny or fairytales. As long as it’s not from The Brothers Grimm.”
“Tell me that’s not a slam on your life?”
I raised my right shoulder in a bit of a shrug. “I’ve never read them, but I’m guessing in their version of Little Red Riding-hood, the wolf wins.”
Bella chuckled and raised her eyebrows quickly, as she bobbed her head up and down. “You’re probably right.”
“Anyway, the important thing is that you are happy.”
“I am. I really am.” Bella gushed. “Who would have thought I’d find my ever after with a stockbroker.”
