Just One Drop (37 page)
Authors: Quinn Loftis
"Alpha." Decebel bared his neck as he trembled for control.
"Open yourself to me," Vasile instructed.
Vasile and Decebel had done this only one other time. It was an ability only an Alpha and Beta shared, a way to pass on the memories if the other should fall. Decebel closed his eyes and forced his breathing to calm. Vasile placed his hand on Decebel's forehead and watched the images and sounds the poured from his Beta's mind into his own.
The room was silent as the rest of the pack looked on, frozen by the events that had just unfolded, that they didn’t yet understand.
When it was done, Vasile opened his eyes and met Decebel's.
"She is alive."
"Only just." Decebel's voice was barely above a whisper.
"You can hear her thoughts?" Vasile's lips curved ever so slightly, happy that his Beta's bond with his mate had finally formed.
"I did. But now it's silent, dark."
"That could mean she is unconscious."
Decebel nodded, unable to even consider the alternative.
"We will find her, Beta," Vasile told him firmly.
Decebel stood. His wolf was still at the forefront, unable to rest, unable to think about anything but finding their mate.
"If..." Decebel had to clear his throat before he could continue. "If she dies, you will have to kill me."
Vasile nodded once, then added, "She will not die."
Decebel closed his eyes. "How can you be so sure?"
Vasile chuckled lightly. "No one as fierce as Jennifer Adams will go quietly into the night."
Epilogue
Decebel gathered rope, flashlights, and water. Costin was waiting along with Fane, Skender, and Sorin.
"Thad's pack bailed with him," Fane announced.
Decebel growled. "We will deal with him once Jennifer is safe."
"Vasile and Alina are under guard. They should be safe enough here, for now." Sorin's words were torn apart as screams erupted from down the hall.
The five males took off at a run towards the shouts and screams. Crina was running towards them.
"FIRE! They've set the mansion on fire."
Decebel kept moving toward the rooms that now had smoke billowing from them.
"Crina make sure Sally and Cynthia get out." Decebel told still running. Then turned to the males running alongside him. "Go through the rooms make sure everyone is out," he yelled over the roar of the flames. The fire was engulfing everything in its path quickly, too quickly, as if something gave it power.
More screams filled the mansion and, once the upper rooms had been checked, they tore through the rest of the house.
"Get everyone out now! Fane, you come with me. We'll get Vasile and Alina."
Decebel was running while shouting his commands. He snarled as flames crawled like demons from hell up the walls.
"Something about this is wrong, Beta," Fane spoke Decebel's thoughts aloud.
"Magic," Decebel muttered. "Dark magic."
Jen struggled to breathe, fading in and out of consciousness. She tried moving at one point, but the pain was so great that she had passed out. Something had just awoken her – a noise, maybe. It was dark, and so cold.
She heard scuffling far above her. An animal? A person?
"Hello?" Her voice was hoarse. "Please help me."
"What is your name?"
Jen heard the female voice some from somewhere up above and nearly sobbed at the sound.
"I'm Jen."
"Hello, Jen." The voice was so soothing and comforting – it made her want to curl up in a ball and sleep. "My name is Rachel…"
Please enjoy this excerpt from
“
Forgotten Self”
by Rachel Carr
Then
Today had been graduation day for a good portion of my friends. They had long since finished their photo slide shows and singing of “Time of Our Lives” and all the other standard high school grad nostalgia. I had fallen into it too, despite having just ended my junior year, writing page-long letters in yearbooks and posting Brand New's “Soco Amaretto Lime” lyrics on my Facebook page.
As many of my former classmates got ready for the all-night party hosted by our very own Snowline High School, my friends were headed elsewhere. A bunch of us, new seniors and recently graduated alike, had planned a small party on the other side of town at the edge of the forest. The trees were thick there – tall pines crowded the mountains. Which meant a perfect hiding place lest we got busted for underage drinking. It wouldn't be the first time.
NPR news played through my speakers, more and more static breaking in the higher I drove up the trail. It definitely creeped me out being in the woods at night. I mean, we've all seen
Blair Witch
. NPR had this real-world feeling to it, so I played it whenever drama or paranoia came my way. It said to me, “Hey, the world's still here. Important, actual things are going on.” Sometimes you need that.
The smell of cinnamon gum and hand sanitizer floated strongly around the vehicle. It had been my cousin's, and after what had happened to her I was more than grateful to change every facet of what familiarity may have been left. Including its scent.
I applied some lip balm and checked my hair in the mirror while I steered my way through the country roads. As I swept my bangs back, there was a flash in the corner of my eye. I whipped my head around to look out the window, but whatever I'd seen wasn't there anymore.
Blair Witch
, yeah.
Accelerating even faster, I turned up the radio's volume. NPR. Normal. Not creepy.
I reached the spot quickly enough but everyone was already there. A fire had been lit and a couple coolers sat nearby. Forgetting the strange flash in the woods, I got out of the car and was instantly inundated with the sounds of MGMT.
“You guys are such sell-outs!” I called at my friends. A chorus of “shut ups” and one “look who's talking” came right back at me. I smiled and made an obscene gesture in return.
A tall, slender girl with long red hair came running over. This was my best friend, Danielle.
“What's up, A-dawg?”
I slapped my forehead audibly. “Ugh, I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”
She grinned and offered me an icy can of beer. “Drink with us tonight. Please,” she added when I grimaced. I wasn't much of a drinker.
But it was graduation night...
I stuck my hand out.
“Awesome,” Danielle chirped and bounded away.
I sighed, popped the tab, and joined everyone at the fire.
“Ah, miss music critic has graced us with her presence at last.”
I looked across the fire. “It was only so I could look upon your sweet face once more, handsome prince,” I mocked Jonathan – Jonathan Conrad, a.k.a. the hottest thing to grace Snowline's hallways.
He had that look of a Greek god, you know, blonde ringlets, light blue eyes that
sparkled
. Damn. Though he didn't quite have that effect on me anymore. We'd had a thing in junior high, but after our disastrous “fling,” stuff like that had been off-limits. It wasn't that he wasn't hot, because he was really, really hot. It's just that sometimes the people you like the most aren't the best for you, and after our final argument had ended up in a serious Skittle-throwing fight – like, welt serious – I'd decided that dating in school was probably a waste of my time. I'd give myself and my peers a little more time to mature.
And not bring Skittles to an argument.
Jonathan beckoned me over to the log bench he sat on. I joined him and drained my beer. My friends were dancing and laughing and reminiscing and I watched them quietly. I would miss this. But before I could get nostalgic about my friends – one day out of their high school careers – I reminded myself that college awaited me, too. I'd worked my ass off so far to get there and I would be happy. Or something like that.
A log popped in the flames, causing me to jump a little bit. The fire created strange silhouettes all around me, making living shadows on people and trees. The party noises grew a little distant as the eeriness drew me in.
“So what'd you think of the ceremony?” Jonathan asked me mischievously, snapping me out of my trance.
I shook off my weird thoughts and grinned. “Well, the introductory speech was really
motivating
.”
He laughed indulgently and slapped a knee. Jonathan had been the host this year, and instead of reading the administration-approved speech he'd turned in, he had read something a little less polite. The phrase “booze, women, and rock & roll” had been used at least once. Though, our soon-to-be student body president was well known for being less than reverent.
“So what's the deal with you and Kayla these days?” Kayla had been Jonathan's most recent “fling-ee,” as I called them. Like so many of his peers, he was a serial non-commiter.
“Well, she's moved on, I've moved on. You know how it is.” He glanced away and took a long drink.
Hmmm. Feeling awkward about this one, Jonny? But I didn't say that. Instead I goaded, “I sure do. I've known the last four years how it is.”
Jonathan crumpled his empty can and raised his eyebrows at me. “You had your chance, sweet lady.” Before I could sass back, he stood up. “I'll get more beer.”
As soon as he had left, Danielle took his place on the log. “Things heating up over here?” She did an eyebrow-waggle thing. What was with these people and eyebrows?
I waved her away. “What are you always yapping about? Boys this, boys that. You know none of them are good enough for me.” She pursed her lips; I winked back.
“Mm-hmm. Abigail, we are gonna get you a man one of these days. You'll see.”
“Don't you put that curse on me, child.” We both immediately laughed.
Jonathan reappeared with two beers, a playful smile upon his face. “Now, what are you two sexy ladies giggling about over here? It wouldn't be over my superbly fine looks, I'm sure.”
Danielle mock-gasped. “You're right!” Then she jumped up. “I'll leave you two alone,” she melodramatically announced, laughing as she walked toward the coolers.
I rolled my eyes and Jonathan handed me a can. “Bottoms up, punk.
If
you can handle it.”
I grabbed it from him and accused, “Did you just challenge
me
, Jonathan Conrad?”
The fire light warmed his features, allowing the gracefulness I'd always associated with them to stand out. Sometimes, in quiet moments like these he would give me this... intense look, like he regretted something. It gave me shivers, but it never lasted long.
The strange expression in his eyes was quickly replaced by one of amusement. “I was merely commenting on the fact that you can't hold your alcohol,” he stated innocently.
Boy, oh boy. He knew just which buttons to push. Ha, so did I. “You're on, Justin Bieber.”
And just like that, any weirdness was gone and we were just two buddies indulging in the vices of our youth.
The next morning I woke up groggy. I didn't feel sick because, thankfully, I'd stopped after a few drinks. Takes a couple times to learn that.
Suddenly I realized my phone was buzzing. I pawed for it on the bedside stand and quickly answered before it went to voicemail.
“Hello?” I said thickly.
“Abigail, what's up?” a voice greeted me excitedly.
My clock glowed brightly. 7.34. I groaned. “Danielle, it's way too early.”
“Not for this it isn't. Guess what tonight is? No wait, don't guess. You should just know.”
“Uhhhh...” I couldn't think. It was Saturday. May. Oh damn. “You don't mean -”
“It's the third Saturday. It's Marshmallow May!”
“Danielle...” I hated Marshmallow May. It was a tradition dating back to 5
th
grade, when we'd met. Basically we just got together in the woods and roasted marshmallows. Exciting, I know. Over the years it had grown from me and her to about fifteen of us. Really just an excuse for another party. “I think I'm going to have to bail,” I told her.
Enter Danielle's prissy voice. “What? You can't.”
“I have to. I've got, uh, family stuff.”
“I thought your parents were in Guatemala.”
“Exactly, they're coming back today.” Which they were.
There was silence as Danielle tried to decide whether or not I was purposely ditching her. But she relented. “Alright. But we
have
to meet up for coffee tomorrow then. No excuses.”
“Fine, fine. I'll see you then.”
After we hung up I quickly got ready. Obviously I'd lied to Danielle. And it wasn't just that I disliked “Marshmallow May,” but that today was something far more important to me. Three years ago today, my cousin Kelly had been killed. Murdered, actually. Danielle knew about it, but she didn't know that every year – starting the very day Kelly had passed away – I drove up into the mountains to our favorite spot to remember her, sometimes to even “talk” to her.
