Kindred (40 page)

Adria howls into the night sky.

And I can’t hold my own beast inside anymore….

ADRIA

29

IT FEELS LIKE A dream, soft like those that slowly urge you awake instead of jolting you up feverishly. I feel a breeze on my face and I can hear the sound of water rolling over rocks and the songs of birds singing their early morning melody when we’re usually still in bed, listening to them from the window. I feel that I’m naked, but something long and thin drapes my body and I feel like I’m floating across the land, somewhere in the forest where the smell of nature is so absolutely distinct and pacifying. I never knew it could feel like this, how intimately we are connected to Nature. The wind on my face, the taste of moisture in the air, the smell of earth and trees and sunlight.

It’s all so much stronger now.

My body lies pressed against the heat of Isaac’s body as he carries me in his arms through some place I never remember being before. I can sense that I’m farther away from home than I was last night, that sometime after the transformation I left Vaughan Woods.

But I do sense that home is close. Even with my eyes shut and having no memory of the night before, after I Turned, I can tell that home is just ahead as if my animal instinct remembers every detail of it and can guide me there without having to see.

My body isn’t sore. I can’t understand it, but I feel better than I’ve ever felt. My arms and legs are stronger, my heart and my lungs feel renewed as if I’m using them for the very first time. My mind is what is still weak. Exhausted by the Change, I can barely open my eyes yet and I don’t have the energy to speak.

“You don’t have to, love,”
Isaac says to me telepathically.
“We’re almost there. Just rest.”

I feel my face warm with a tiny smile.

His heart thrums calmly against the side of my cheek. I can feel that my naked legs are lying over one of his arms and my head is nestled in the other. And I just let the feeling of being close to him and of being alive wash over me as he carries me home. My hearing is so much more acute; I can hear the cars passing over the freeway that I know is several miles out. I can hear the sounds of forks and plates and coffee pots from inside the nearby houses as the residents of Hallowell share breakfast. I can hear their conversations and every now and then I can sense an emotion evoked by some kind of pain or joy or excitement.

At first, I’m enthralled by all of this, that I can hear absolutely everything; but all too soon the curiosity wears off and is replaced by unease because I can’t seem to shut any of it out.

Isaac’s warm lips press against my hair.
“I’ll teach you how to control it.”

I lift my arm and hook it over his shoulder, nestling my head more deeply into his bare chest.

Many long minutes pass until I can sense the familiar feeling of home. I can easily tell exactly where we are, though I still never open my eyes. And as Isaac’s bare feet walk across the dirt and gravel driveway and uphill toward his house I can sense those inside, those just like me. And all of them are waiting with curious impatience as they too sense Isaac and me are coming home.

“Why did you leave?”
Isaac says telepathically as we approach the steps.
“I have to know.”

I think about the answer quietly for a moment, hoping that he will give me this time with my thoughts privately and then I say,
“I was sure the transformation was going to kill me…I…I couldn’t let you watch me die, not after I forced you into this. I just couldn’t bear it.”

He leans down and kisses my forehead before stepping inside to the warmth of the Mayfair house.

~~~

Nine months ago I was just a southern teenage girl living in Athens, Georgia who loved to swim with my friends in The Fork and hang out with my sister at the pool hall on Friday nights. Nine months ago I was a girl living a somewhat troubled life, but never letting it destroy me. I had dreams and aspirations just like anybody else. I never imagined for a second that I would be here in Maine surrounded by the supernatural world, or that I would become so much a part of it. Not so unlike the birth of a baby, my new life, my new existence unfolded in nine months of turmoil and happiness and sorrow and love. And last night on July 3
^rd
, I was reborn.

I survived the transformation.

I can be with Isaac forever…I just wonder how long forever will be.

~~~

Days fade into weeks and life for me is slowly becoming clearer. With Isaac’s guidance I’m learning to be what I am. He is by my side every second of every day that I want and need him, though when I need to be alone, he gives me my space. Our link to one another is infallibly strong, but it’s the first thing that Isaac taught me to control because he knows that I can’t stand knowing everything he’s thinking. And he respects that I don’t want him knowing my thoughts, either. Isaac closed my mind off to his, vowing never to listen unless I ask him to, or if I’m in trouble. He has taught me how to do the same to him, even though he told me he doesn’t care if I listen to his thoughts whenever I want. Sometimes they’re kind of dirty—he does this on purpose, just to get a smile out of me and it always works, but I opted for never listening in unless it’s absolutely necessary.

I am more than a part of the family now, more than the outcast who used to hang precariously on the arm of the upcoming Alpha, always watching over my shoulder. The respect that I receive among others in the Mayfair house is unwavering. They are undeniably loyal to me. All except for Rachel, who even though treats me with the same respect that she does Isaac’s sisters, will always be Rachel and I really can’t expect anything more.

Although Genna Bishop has already helped me so much, there was still yet one more thing that I needed to ask of her before she left us and handed over the reins to Harry, my best friend and Guardian. On the night of the Fourth of July, Genna wiped Aunt Bev and Uncle Carl’s minds clean of the time I was missing. And anyone else who comes in contact with them and who may have known about my disappearance will instantly be affected by the power keeping their memories at bay. Praverians truly are extraordinary beings. Whether loyal or Dark, their powers and abilities I think will always astound me.

But my relationship with Harry thankfully hasn’t changed a bit.
Harry
hasn’t changed a bit. If he had, I think it would’ve been like losing my sister all over again. But Harry is still fond of telling me what to do and explaining the consequences if I don’t, and he still loves throwing spit-soaked sunflower seeds in my hair and locking me in Isaac’s bathroom on occasion. It doesn’t seem to faze him that with a thought he can bring any of the werewolves that are my family to their knees. He doesn’t, however, take his duty to me lightly and sometimes I see the ancient Praverian come out of him when he’s discussing issues with Isaac or Nathan or Daisy. He certainly isn’t new to this. He may not have known what he was up until recently, but this fact has not hindered his memories, or his abilities.

But beyond Harry, there are still things that need to be sorted, secrets that I know will have to be unraveled, and a traitor who…I can’t imagine it right now. It’s too painful for me, to know that someone I know, possibly someone that I love, is a traitor.

For the first two weeks when I got back, everyone in the house was forbidden to come near me except Nathan, Daisy and Harry. I was the only one incapable of shutting off access to my thoughts to everyone else around me. With a traitor in our midst, one that can read minds, to learn to do this was critical. Whoever it is, the five of us know that he or she will undoubtedly be listening. And Harry, being a Praverian still has to pretend that he’s nothing more than the human they have always believed him to be. He allows his human thoughts to be freely read by whoever the traitor is, but with his knowledge and power, it is only selective thoughts that he or she can hear.

Harry says it’s tricky. Actually his words were: “It’s making my frickin’ head spin—hey, will you get me a soda?”

Oh Harry! I’d be miserable without his awkward charm.

Adapting. That’s what I’m learning to do now and according to Harry, learning to do everything I’m capable of, quicker than the average newbie, is also critical.

Because a storm is coming and I need to be prepared before it gets here.

“If you know my future,” I say to Harry with my back against the dank basement rock wall, “
come on
, you have to tell me what’s gonna’ happen. Am I gonna’ get married and lug around a few werewolf babies—god, please tell me no babies.”

Harry chortles, shaking his head side to side. He sits against the wall across from me at a safe distance. His knees are bent and his hands dangle off the tops of them at the wrists.

“I can only see visions of the destiny you’re supposed to fulfill.” He laughs louder suddenly. “Yeah, the thought of mini Adria and Isaacs running around kind of makes me want to start cutting.”

I throw my head back a little, barking a laugh.

But then Harry gets serious again.

“I can’t tell you or anyone else exactly what’s going to happen because that just creates another opportunity to threaten the balance and throw it off course all over again.” He smiles across at me. “But I’ve got your back, that’s for damn sure.”

“But what about the Praverian?” I say, letting every one of his words sink carefully into my mind. “I know you already told Nathan and Isaac, but I want you to tell me. How do you trap it?”

Harry shakes his head soberly. “It’s not going to be easy,” he says raising just his eyes. “I’ll explain it to you soon.” He flicks a small piece of rotted wood he had been rolling between his fingers out onto the floor.

“I don’t see why we can’t just line everybody up and force them to say it out loud,” I argue. “Seems like the easiest way to weed the traitor out.”

“Adria,” Harry says and I’ve never seen him so serious, “whoever it is, they’re powerful. They can crush your skull in on itself with a thought. When one of us goes Dark, it’s…,” he gazes off toward the tiny box window. I get the worst feeling from his demeanor, as though a long ago memory is raping his mind all over again. “…it’s like unleashing a demon—I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“I think telling me it can crush my skull in on itself by just thinking it, is pretty self-explanatory,” I say, but Harry is unaffected by the slight jest in my tone.

He stares back at me and I set all of my flippant emotions aside.

“Why doesn’t it just kill us then?” I say. “I don’t get why it’s even
here
, or why it seems to have targeted me in that friggin’ car wreck.”

“It might have everything to do with your destiny,” Harry says. “But at the same time, it could have nothing to do with you at all.” He shakes his head, his thick, dark eyebrows knotted pensively. “This one seems more vengeful than the few I’ve encountered in the past. There’s more to this one, Adria. I think it’s toying with all of you, but I don’t know why.”

“Well, that’s oh-so-comforting.”

Harry smiles now, looking more like the smartass human Harry I know and love.

“Just think if you didn’t have me to cover your butt,” he says. “Of course, it’s easy to cover a butt as small as yours—just sayin’.”

“If I could move my hands to throw something at you,” I say, “you’d
so
be packing a black eye with a bag of frozen peas.”

I hear Isaac’s footsteps descending the basement stairs. Tonight is the first night of the week approaching the next full moon and just like Sebastian used to do, I’m forced to spend most of my time down here surrounded by filthy wet walls and darkness with my arms and legs shackled to the stone. It feels every bit like an old dungeon from some time in the Middle Ages. At least, I think it does.

“Are you flirting with my girl again, Harry?” Isaac says with an air of humor as he appears in the room carrying a bowl of water and a handful of fresh hand towels.

“Hell naw,” Harry says getting to his feet. “I don’t know how
you
do it.” He winks at me and I stick my tongue out at him.

Isaac sits down on the floor next to me, placing the bowl of water beside him and the towels in his lap.

“What’s that for?” I say.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says smiling warmly and reaching up to move my hair away from my face.

He turns to look at Harry. “So what’s the word? What do we have to prepare for?”

Harry looks at both of us calmly, but I see in his eyes the severity of his answer.

“War,” he says as if such a powerful word is so light on his tongue. He buries his hands in his pockets.

“Is there any way that we can stop it?” Isaac asks.

Harry looks only at me now and I get the feeling that he’s mourning me.

“The war
has
to happen,” Harry says, “And Adria will be the one to start it.”