The Waking (The Upturned Hourglass), page 21
Shane piped up from where she stood against the countertop near the fridge. “So you want to go to the Council meeting…to rat out Isaac? Jack! We’d be testifying against our own pack leader when we, ourselves, are harboring a soon-to-be fugitive!”
“Yes, yes, but look. If we’re at that meeting we can send the rest of the Council on Isaac’s trail, giving ourselves opportunity to get out of Dodge. We’d be coming clean, asking for the Council’s protection from consequences of actions that were not our own. It’s true enough. They’ll travel to where Valie was last, pick up Isaac’s scent and think that he’s stolen away the girl. When really we have her here, ready to run as soon as the Council clears out.”
Silence hung in the air of the room as each Lycan held his or her own council. It was Noah who finally broke the stillness as he looked up at Jack from his chair and unexpectedly smiled.
“’The enemy of my enemy is my friend,’” Noah quoted.
“Precisely!” Jack commended, happy to know his plan made some sense at least.
Noah nodded, though the action was followed by a very distinct yawn—an infectious yawn, as it were, because Shane and Jack both followed suit.
“This girl is going to be the death of us,” Shane mumbled.
“That was part of the deal,” Jack replied, almost too defensively. He couldn’t afford to have these two get cold feet—not that he really distrusted them. As much as he hated dragging them into this, he needed the support of his friends.
Shane laughed out loud, apparently guessing Jack’s pensive thoughts.
“We’re not going to bail on you, brother. I just meant, having to be up during the day is a killer, and now we’re going to have to be up during the night, too. Have we ever met any other werewolves insane enough to try to do what we’re doing? I don’t think so.”
Jack smiled and relaxed. “True enough.”
Noah piped in. “Though, it seems like Valie enjoys the night more than the day, as well. Maybe it won’t be so hard to get our schedules back to normal.”
Jack abruptly sobered at Noah’s suggestion. “She doesn’t know, yet, what’s out there in the night. She’s not one of us. For all intents and purposes, she’s still human and totally helpless in our world. Unfortunately, we have to keep it that way. No one can know she’s anything more than what she appears to be. We didn’t originally notice her mixed heritage and we’re just going to have to hope that no one else will either.”
Shane and Noah nodded solemnly.
“Good. All right, then. You two go catch some more sleep. I’ll occupy her for the rest of the afternoon and we’ll head out tonight to tell the rest of the clan that Isaac sent us home early without changing the Mark. Suspicion will be thrown off of us if we distance ourselves from Isaac.”
“After we go see Max. We told her we’d run by the club and explain.” Shane’s voice was bordering on her typical whine, anticipating that Jack wouldn’t like the idea one bit.
And she was right. Jack was about to protest, when Noah spoke up.
“Max will only bust down the door, just before dawn, and demand the explanation, anyway. We are staying in her house. . .Why not save ourselves the hassle of dealing with an irritated Vampyre?”
Jack sighed. “Fine. But Valie isn’t safe there. We go in and get out as quickly as possible. Period.”
Shane pouted slightly. “Max is a friend, Jack. She’d never let anyone harm Valentine.”
“I’m not worried about the ones that care about whether or not Max lets them do anything.”
The young werewolf knew she had to accede to him on this point. Valie was the priority. But Shane wasn’t pleased to think that Jack was going to be wary of her friends. They had to trust somebody.
“Alright. In and out. Got it.”
Noah and Shane hurriedly retired to their bedrooms—each privately considering the plans for the evening. It was going to be a long night.
Meanwhile, as Valie washed the lake water filth out of her hair, she cried. She cried because her captors would not let her call Luci; she cried over the fact that she needed such protection; and she cried for the loss of the life she had assumed she would have that she believed would now never be.
But at least she was alive.
Valie sighed, glancing out the shower curtain, making sure the bathroom door was still open. She was glad the adjoining room was Shane’s.
She returned to scrubbing her body clean as she thought.
She was blaming the wrong people for her circumstance. Jack, Shane and Noah were protecting her, keeping her from harm’s way. Why should she resent them? It was Isaac that she should blame. It was Isaac that was forcing her life to turn upside down.
And her mother…
Valie’s tears flowed anew as she looked at her bracelet—it seemed to burn her skin now. The love story of Isaac and her mother was now the origin of her misfortune. Her mother, with or without the proper knowledge, had fallen in love with a Lycan and had not only paid the price with her own life, but now the life of her daughter.
As Valie cried, the steaming hot water evaporating her tears, all she could think was Why me?
BACKGROUND
Jack sat on the leather sofa, his head in his hands, remembering.
When his human life had been ripped away—when it had been stolen from him—he had hardened himself to both worlds, the Occult and the Blind. He didn’t want that for Valie. She deserved better.
A small creak in the flooring caught the boy’s attention. His head snapped up to find Valie leaning against the wall in a pair of Shane’s sweats and a tight, long-sleeved lavender shirt. Her slender arms were crossed, as usual. She looked uncomfortable, as usual. Her golden eyes had darkened and her face was red from spent tears.
“I don’t have a choice anymore do I?” she asked, her voice quiet and hoarse.
Jack rose as if to go to her, but he refrained. Slowly, without averting his eyes, he shook his head. “No. Not if you want to live.”
“Did I ever? Have a choice, I mean. Was there ever an alternative?”
Jack sighed. “There’s always death,” he flatly stated.
Valie shivered.
“Yes,” she murmured. “There is always that.”
A look of concern crossed Jack’s face and he quickly changed the subject.
“You’re a part of the team now, Valie. We don’t need to keep secrets from each other any longer. You’re welcome here and privy to all the knowledge you’ll need to live in the Occult world. Originally, the plan was to try to convince you to come with us willingly.” He smiled wanly. “I had a feeling it would have been quite an undertaking. The way it all played out took me by surprise. Believe me, I would have preferred you conscious while kidnapping you.”
“You probably wouldn’t have gotten away with it if I’d been conscious,” Valie mused.
“That’s what you think,” Jack replied, a wry smile spreading across his face.
Valie cleared her throat and looked away from those intoxicating eyes that watched her. Without the weight of those eyes, the girl spoke soberly, “I guess we’ll never know what would have been. The past is the past.”
“Do you really feel that way?” Jack asked, somewhat surprised by Valie’s change of attitude. Less than an hour ago she’d practically thrown a tantrum. Now, she seemed so resigned.
Valie inwardly laughed at the boy’s question as she fiddled with the sleeves of the lavender shirt she wore. The answer was ‘no.’ She felt no such acceptance of this new journey she was apparently embarking on, but what could she do? From what she had learned of those who were after her—namely Isaac and the Council—if she returned home and went to Luci, she would only bring trouble with her.
“Yes,” Valie said, refusing to voice her true thoughts. “Although there is one thing that has been bothering me. I meant to ask you yesterday…” She couldn’t believe it had only been yesterday morning that she had been in Luci’s living room, practically begging Jack to take her with them to confront her father.
If Fate did exist, it had a cruel sense of humor.
“Alright. Shoot.” Jack sat back on the couch, sinking into the corner and crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. He looked curious to hear what Valie would ask next, which relieved the girl somewhat. She had begun to worry that Jack would get tired of answering every question that popped into her head.
Valie continued to fiddle with her shirt, fingering a few hanging threads that she knew, if she pulled, would begin to unravel the sleeve. She couldn’t help but realize how similar her life was to the piece of cloth—it felt like someone could give one good tug and her life would be undone.
“You guys came to Anders on Isaac’s orders, right?”
The boy nodded.
“Well, what did you do before? What was life like?”
Jack shrugged nonchalantly. “Relatively normal, to be honest. The clan is welcome to go about daily life however they please—as long as basic ground rules are followed. Each pack leader has different rules, but Isaac has never tried to overly control any of his pack. The only true requirements are education in basic Lycanthrope history, attendance of the monthly clan meeting on the day of the full moon, and acceptance of Isaac’s decisions, especially if he chooses you to accompany him on a hunt.”
“I’m assuming you, Shane and Noah were ‘on a hunt’ in Anders. . . .”
Without waiting for a response, Valie looked away from Jack to the opposite wall where the mantelpiece was situated above the fireplace. It was covered from end to end with framed photographs that captured Valie’s attention. She stepped up to the pictures and looked at each one with interest. She recognized Shane and Noah, as well as Eliza and Terrence. There was an old, faded picture of the latter two in vintage wedding garb holding each other’s hands and looking very much in love. The image caught Valie off-guard.
“Eliza and Terrence are married?”
“Yes. They have been for a long time. Decades.”
“Everyone looks…happy,” Valie observed, unable to hide her disbelief. She glanced at the ordinary images. They looked like average people doing average people things—cooking, playing cards, driving. Valie noticed that the strikingly beautiful Eliza, even when staring at the camera, didn’t smile, but Terrence wore a formal-looking smirk at all times. Shane was never captured without a brilliant grin and was most often the closest to the camera; Valie assumed she was the one always taking the pictures. There were only a couple of images with Noah in them and in both, he looked coolly at the camera and, though he didn’t smile with his mouth, he did with his eyes. Valie realized she had only seen the boy truly smile a handful of times in the past few days. She had assumed the current circumstances were affecting Noah’s behavior, but perhaps that’s just how he was.
“Who is the woman in this picture?” Valie asked, indicating a photograph of Shane laughing with a young woman with angular features and long, copper hair caught up in a high ponytail.
“That’s our friend, Maxine, the owner of this house. She and Shane are very close. Much like you and….” Jack cut himself off as he realized that any mention of Valie’s previous life might be like rubbing salt in new wounds.
“Ah,” was all Valie managed to say. After a moment of silent contemplation, she continued. “Why are there no pictures of you?” she asked, turning back to Jack. She hesitated before adding, “Or Isaac….”
“You sound disappointed.”
“It would be nice to know the face of the man trying to kill me,” Valie said coldly, her frustration easily apparent.
In a slow, fluid motion, Jack rose from the couch and walked into a room down the hall. When he again came to Valie’s side, an unframed photograph was in his hand.
Without hesitation, Valie eagerly took the photograph and turned it right-side up. A strange-looking man with slicked, black hair and tan, leathery skin stared back at her from the photo…..
A strange-looking man with dark, amber eyes, just like Valie’s.
The girl studied his expression, searching for some semblance of herself in any other aspect of his form, but all she found was vague unfamiliarity.
“Nice to meet you, Isaac,” Valie whispered and, with a sick, biting wit uttered another, single word, “Dad.”
“You’re nothing like him, you know,” Jack immediately reassured. Valie was suddenly conscious of just how close the werewolf-boy was to her.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I know him, Valie. And I’m beginning to know you, too.”
Valie rolled her eyes, surprising the well-meaning Jack. “Really? You know him, Jack? Does that mean that you knew he was going to try to kill me? Or that I even existed? Because, from where I stand, no one knows anything about this situation except him.” Valie waved the picture in front of Jack to indicate the image of her father before thrusting the photograph into his hands. The boy placed it on the mantelpiece and stood by the fireplace with his hands in his pockets as Valie took a seat on the couch.
“You didn’t answer my original question, you know,” she said. “Why are there no pictures of you?”
“I wasn’t around when Shane’s obsession with photography began. Missed a lot of photo-ops.”
“You weren’t around? I thought you’ve been with Isaac for years?”
“I was with our clan for a long time and then, I guess you could say, I took a break for a couple of years and joined the Lycanthrope Guard, became a soldier for the Council. It was a good gig, though I learned more about the Occult than even I wanted to know. . . .The tattoo on my shoulder is a symbol of the Guard—it’s the alchemical symbol for silver. The Vampyres used to brand it on Lycanthropes in their service. It now serves as a reminder of our past as well as a representation of ourselves as servants of both Fate and the moon.”
“If your life in the Guard was so good, why did you return to Isaac?”
“I was needed here,” Jack replied simply.
Valie glanced at the lithe boy and realized just how much she did not know about him. She was drowning in the Occult and Jack was her life-vest, a life-vest that had dropped from the sky without warning and the girl was just now questioning how it had appeared.
“So, if we aren’t keeping secrets from each other any longer,” she began. “Will you answer a personal question for me?”
The boy hesitated only a moment, and then answered honestly, “Anything.”
Valie’s eyes narrowed at his response. “How were you turned into a werewolf?”
Jack’s features became expressionless; all playfulness vanished.
His answer was matter-of-fact, “Isaac selected me and I was . . . initiated . . . when I was twelve. I joined his pack soon after.”
“Right . . . okay, but is that all there is to it? You’re bitten and changed into a wolf. But what’s the process; when does it take effect? Does it hurt? How does it work?” The girl hesitated before adding, “Do you still feel like a human being?”
Jack held up a silencing hand. “That’s many more than one question, sweets.”
Valie frowned. “You said no secrets.”
Jack watched her, without speaking. She had no idea what she was asking, but she still deserved to know. . . .
Finally, he sighed.
“So I did. But can we please stick to one topic at a time?”
“Fine. Is the werewolf bite painful or is there something else to it? I’ve heard stories from Luci about Vampyres having the ability to drug their victims so it’s . . . . I don’t know . . . . a pleasant experience. I don’t suppose that works for werewolves?”
Jack laughed without humor in his voice. “No. Unfortunately, it does not work that way for Lycanthropes. Humans often experience a euphoric sensation when bitten by a Vampyre, but no one knows why and it affects each individual differently. Werewolf bites are not that way. They feel. . .well, like you’re being bitten by a huge wolf. They are painful and leave a distinct scar.”
“Where’s your scar?” Valie asked, but she immediately wished she could take it back. It seemed, even to her, like an incredibly personal question.
Jack smiled, sensing her discomfort. “On my shoulder.” He pointed to his left shoulder.
“Isaac bit you on your tattoo?”
“No. My mom thought twelve was a little young for a tattoo. It surrounds the bite marks.”
Valie shifted awkwardly, embarrassed. “So what was your life like before you were bitten? Do you have family?”
“I did.”
Valie waited for more, but nothing more was offered.
“Any siblings?”
“One sister.”
“Older or younger?”
“Younger.”
Valie nodded, though she was becoming frustrated with Jack’s obvious reticence to share with her.
“I’m assuming, you lived with your parents and your sister, then?”
“My father walked out on us when I was eight.”
Valie glanced down at the ground. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Jack shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, although Valie could see the tension in the boy’s shoulders.
“That must have been hard.”
Jack’s eyes hardened dramatically—that portal to his soul snapping shut with a bang. “Yes. Of course,” he replied formally.
Valie scowled and exhaled sharply.
“What?” Jack asked innocently.
Valie’s frustration was obvious. “You know everything about me, Jack. Everything. Is it really so much to ask that I know a little about you? I know absolutely nothing about you, except that you’re some gorgeous werewolf trying to save my life. That’s not a whole lot to go on when you’re entrusting your life to someone! You know about my life, about my parents, my grandfather. Hell! You’ve seen me crying, bleeding, screaming, shouting, drowning. Now, I’ve conceded that my life does need saving, but how can I trust you to do that when you won’t tell me a damn thing about yourself!”
