Ellida (5 page)

Although I was a decent player, I wasn’t
crazy about chess. But one look into Henry’s bright, smart eyes
told me that a match with Red Cliffs’ young genius could be quite
an experience. “It will be my pleasure, Master Henry,” I said and
placed a loud smack on his rosy cheek.

One by one, our guests started departing.
Graeme told me to not forget to look for my magic glue to fix his
truck. Henry gave me his Middle East map as a present.

Peyton came to say goodbye.

“It was nice to meet you, Peyton,” I
said.

“I hope I’ll see you soon, Astrid. Jack told
me about your house and condo. Let’s talk about it when you have
time. We can go out for lunch.”

“
Yeah, that’s gonna happen
,” my wolf
smirked.

“Sure. That would be nice.”

I COLLAPSED on the sofa with a deep sigh of
relief. The last visitors had left, and we had a few more hours
before Morgaine and Takeshi arrived. James and Jack would meet them
at our small airport and drive them home.

Eamon had tried to convince his mother to
allow him to skip school on Monday, but he was promptly sent to his
room to finish his homework. Jack and Uncle James were in James’
study.

“You all right?” my aunt said and sat beside
me, holding a tray with some finger food and a glass of mineral
water. “Have a bite. You must be hungry.”

“Thanks. I’m fine now,” I said and shoveled a
cheese roll into my mouth. “I’m starving.”

“What happened, Astrid? I didn’t notice
anything until Henry asked you about your eyes.”

“My wolf sometimes likes to play
hide-and-seek at the most inopportune moments,” I said. “Sometimes
she feels neglected, sometimes she acts upon my deepest instinct.
Today there were so many fellow werewolves around and she had to
stay inside. Some other times, when I’m upset, she tries to help.
She says she’s stronger, but sometimes she just makes everything
worse, like today.”

“Would you turn if she was persistent?”

“I usually turn during the full moon only,
but since I met Jack, my wolf tries to come out in between changes.
Sometimes I have memory lapses when she tries to take over, but so
far I’ve been able to control her. When my eyes turn amber, it
means she’s close. My voice changes slightly as well.”

“Are you okay now? In spite of that episode,
you did extremely well, Astrid. We’re proud of you.”

Betty’s praise lifted my spirit. “I’m fine,”
I said. “Overall, it wasn’t that difficult.”

“Except for Heather, of course,” Betty said.
“Don’t pay attention to her, Astrid. She is a bitter, unhappy
woman. Remember when I told you that not every female child of a
wizard and werewolf union becomes an Ellida? That there’s much more
required than just a proper bloodline?”

“Is that what happened to her?”

“Yes. Her mother’s a werewolf, her father was
a wizard. They were sure Heather would be an Ellida. The physical
signs were there—she had some considerable wizard skills and her
transformation was delayed. But she lacked the most important
‘ingredient’—the inner beauty, strength, humanity, maturity,
balance. She didn’t have that spiritual component which makes an
Ellida such a powerful force of life at its best.

“Silly thing wanted power and position, all
the wrong things. When she turned into a werewolf the first time,
she lost most of her wizard skills. She’s barely an enchanter now.
As a wolf, she’s small and submissive, although generally,
nothing’s wrong with that. Most werewolves are submissive on some
level and dominant on others, except for the Alpha pair. That’s the
natural order of things. The problems start when somebody wants to
break that order. Anyway, that was a heavy blow for Heather, and
unfortunately, made her even more bitter.”

Physically, Peyton didn’t resemble her
mother, and I doubted that their personalities were similar. “Is
Heather married? Who is Peyton’s father?” I asked.

“She’s never been married. Peyton’s father
was a werewolf from Copper Ridge. He was a nice man. Soon after
Heather got pregnant, he left for Finland. Seth Withali sent him
there. Anyway, according to the official version, Kincaid got
killed in the local clan conflict there. Heather wasn’t devastated
by his death.”

She stopped and locked her soft, amber eyes
on mine. “You’ll hear it sooner or later, so better if I tell you.
Heather’s convinced herself that your father was the love of her
life. They had a fling, before he married your mother, at least
that’s how Hal felt about it. Of course, Heather hated Rowena’s
guts when Hal brought her here, and Hal, and pretty much everybody
else.”

I let out a dry laugh. “And now she’s
probably telling everyone that I’m a fake Ellida because I’m
Rowena’s daughter.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Betty said and
patted my hand. “Nobody likes her here, so thanks to her, you’ve
already got an army of supporters. She could’ve done far more
damage if she’d been smart enough to support you.”

I wanted to know more about Peyton, but I
didn’t want to ask directly. If there were a history between Jack
and her, Betty would leave it to Jack.

“I noticed you all like Peyton,” I said.

“She is a part of this family, Astrid. She
had a sad childhood until James took her under his wing. She’s a
good, smart girl. See, werewolves are very devoted to their
children. They are the very core of our life. Peyton’s mother is an
emotionally incapacitated person. Peyton’s never had her
unconditional love and support, no matter how hard she tried. It
was impossible to get Heather’s love when she wasn’t able to give
it to anybody… Yes, Peyton’s very special to us.”

“But they came together.”

“That was the only way for Heather to come to
our house. She’s not welcome, and she knows that. Peyton, on the
other hand, still tries to make sense of her relationship with her
mother, and Heather abuses it.”

I was glad Betty couldn’t read my mind,
because right now I was ashamed for being jealous and angry. I
still felt little pangs in the pit of my stomach. I knew I should
be more noble and unselfish, I told myself, but I was a woman in
love. Moreover, I was a werewolf in love and therefore possessive
and with poor control over the green-eyed monster.

To my credit, I didn’t pity Peyton. Against
all odds, she hadn’t become an angry, miserable person like her
mother. She was smart, pretty and well liked. I just hoped she
would soon find somebody who would love her back.

WHEN I was a child, I loved princess fairy
tales. Once my grandfather had bought me a picture book collection
of fairy tales. I was more fascinated with the illustrations than
with the already familiar stories. The princesses and princes were
beautiful, young grown-up women and men, nothing like those
juvenile characters from books and movies created for children’s
audiences. Those young women wore brightly colored baroque gowns
with deep necklines, which pushed up their breasts, narrow
waistline and cascades of brocade and silk supported by wide
hoops.

Most vividly I remembered the fairy godmother
from
Cinderella
. Unlike her plump, grandmotherly Disney
counterpart wrapped in a shapeless cloak, that particular fairy
godmother was a young, lovely woman in a beautiful pale-blue
organdy gown. She looked more like Cinderella’s best friend than
her fairy godmother.

That was the image that immediately popped up
in my mind when Morgaine, the Ellida of Gelltydd Coch clan, stepped
into the hallway.

Morgaine was of average height and looked to
be in her early thirties, very feminine with her full breasts and
curvy hips. Her straight, dark auburn hair was held back with a
wide green headband. Her face was oval-shaped and clear-featured:
high cheekbones, straight nose, full mouth. What made that face
unforgettable was a set of beautiful wide-spaced sage-green eyes
sprinkled with gold speckles. Long, arched eyebrows gave them width
and depth. Framed with thick lashes, Morgaine’s misty green pools
looked mysterious, sexy and wise. And timeless.

Now those incredible eyes glanced over me and
I had the feeling they penetrated into every corner of my soul.

She smiled at me. The speckles in her eyes
grew bigger, changing her eye color to honey-gold. “I’m very
pleased to meet you, Astrid,” she said in a pleasant, velvety
contralto. “We’ve been waiting for you for such a long time.”

I smiled. I’d been a long wait. Three hundred
years, roughly. “I’m honored to meet you, Ellida.”

Morgaine took a small step aside and waved
toward a young man who stood behind her. “Please meet my son
Takeshi.”

“My lady,” he said stiffly and made a short
bow with his head.

He looked so aristocratic that I suppressed
an urge to reply with “My lord Nakamura” and continue to speak to
him in those few Japanese words and phrases I knew.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Nakamura.”

Young Nakamura, how Jack and James had
referred to him to distinguish him from his father, who was
referred to just as Nakamura, was young indeed, twenty, maybe
twenty-two. He was black haired, dark eyed, with ivory-white skin.
He looked pretty much like the young Japanese actor even Jack had
sourly admitted was handsome.

I glanced at Jack, who stood aside, waiting
for us to finish with the formalities. His gaze was fixed on
Takeshi and I was quite sure he’d reached the same conclusion
regarding this epitome of male beauty. He didn’t look very happy,
and I knew what was troubling him: he would be gone tomorrow, and I
would stay here with this stunning samurai.

“Betty, I’m so happy to see you,” Morgaine
said and hugged my aunt in a spontaneous gesture. “It’s been a
while.” She turned to my cousin and greeted him in the same casual
manner, “Well, hello, Eamon. Look at you! You’re a fully grown man
all of a sudden!”

We moved to the family room. Morgaine, Betty,
James and Jack continued to chat. Eamon ran between the kitchen,
dining and sitting rooms, taking care of our drinks and setting the
table. Takeshi and I sat quietly on opposite sides of the sofa,
like two kids who were allowed to stay with the adults after
promising to behave.

Morgaine threw occasional glances in my
direction. She would ask me a question here and there, mostly about
my grandparents and my job.

Around midnight Jack said he was going home
to get ready for tomorrow’s trip. My stomach knotted and I briefly
closed my eyes.
Oh, I’m not ready for that!
I screamed
silently, as panic washed over me.
Oh, please don’t go! Don’t
leave me here!

“May I talk to you for a minute, Astrid?”
Jack said.

I excused myself and walked him to the
door.

He locked his arms around me. I pressed my
forehead against his chest, listening to his heart and letting the
warm current run between us, enwrapping us protectively.

Since we’d arrived in Red Cliffs, we hadn’t
had an opportunity to be alone. I wanted to ask him about Peyton. I
wanted to hear there was nothing to worry about. Now it was too
late for that. Whatever it had been, I told myself, it was over,
otherwise Jack would have told me.

“Take care, Jack. Don’t be long.”

“I would be a fool to let you wait for too
long,” he said quietly and sought my lips, claiming them in a
fierce kiss. “I love you Astrid,” he whispered into my hair. “More
than I’d ever thought was possible.”

And with that, he was gone.

I licked my lips that tasted of Jack, numb
and swollen from his dark, ferocious kiss, and walked back to the
dining room. As I passed by Morgaine, she reached out and took my
hand, motioning to the chair beside her.

“We’ll start with our training on Monday,
Astrid,” she said. “Takeshi can work with you in the morning and
you and I will meet every afternoon. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” I said and gently squeezed
Morgaine’s hand in confirmation. “I’m looking forward to
starting.”

LATER IN my room, I took a shower and put on
a long, midnight-blue silk nightgown. Tonight I didn’t feel like
sleeping only with the nail polish on my toes. Although I was
tired, sleep refused to come. From the bottom of my purse I dug out
my phone and checked the messages. Liv, Ella, another one from
Liv.

I crossed the room and peered outside. The
lights in the big house across the yard were still on.

I sat on the bed and leaned on the pillows.
Arms behind my head, I stared into the semidarkness of the room.
The images of the day came back: the cold eyes of Heather Kincaid,
Peyton’s small hand clutched around Jack’s arm, love and pain in
her eyes, my wolf’s angry, jealous roars. Henry’s questions,
Betty’s story, Morgaine, her son… And Jack, who was leaving
tomorrow. My throat ached and my chest tightened.

Luckily, my mind never liked to dwell too
long on unhappy thoughts, so I immediately crossed to the sunny
side of the street: the night Jack and I had met, the exciting and
confusing first days, our first kiss, our hiking trips, our talks,
laughs and fights.

A soft knock on the windowpane broke the
string of happy memories. I leaped from the bed and dashed across
the room.

I opened the window and Jack softly landed
inside.

I launched myself into his outstretched arms.
Our mouths touched and our bodies pressed, and the world resumed
its normal shape.

“I can’t go before I check if there’s a
monster in your closet,” he whispered between kisses, and then
swept me into his arms and carried me to the bed. I closed my arms
around his neck, pulling him down on me.

“Oh, Jack, I’m already missing you.”

Gripping my wrists, he unlocked my arms and
held them above my head. “You looked a bit lost tonight. I’ve never
seen you like that before, not even when I told you about the bond.
What’s going on?”