Ungifted (15 page)

“As if you’d be allowed to date anyone besides a natural female werewolf.”

Preston’s face turned bright red. “I’ll have a choice!” he hissed.

“Like I did?” Cynthia challenged.

Preston paled instantly and he rose without further argument. “Keep a close eye on her tonight,” he ordered Cynthia, and then left.

“What was that about?” I asked as I watched Preston huff away.

Cynthia didn’t answer. She was now fingering a ring that hung around her neck by an old shoelace. She must have had it tucked beneath her shirt. I’d never seen it before. “How much do you know about Samhain, Grace?”

I shook my head—I didn’t know much—but Cynthia didn’t see me. She was staring into the flames of the fire in front of us, her mind a million miles away. “Just what I’ve read,” I answered aloud. “But who knows how much of that is accurate. I know it’s on Halloween. It has something to do with a harvest—though what exactly you guys harvest is beyond me—and I know it’s supposed to be the most magical day of the year. Lots of bad hocus pocus happens tonight.”

Cynthia smiled faintly, still staring off. “All of that’s true,” she said. “But there’s a lot more to it than that. Samhain means summer’s end. The supernatural celebrate two seasons, Light and Dark. Samhain marks the end of the summer and begins the season of the dark. It’s kind of like our New Year. It’s about putting the past behind us and making a new start. It’s about reflecting on the previous year and honoring those we’ve lost. Traditionally we each offer up a personal sacrifice to the gods by burning it. That’s why the giant bonfires.”

I looked back at the fire. I liked that it had purpose other than being some kind of party decoration. “A sacrifice, huh? Did you want me to jump, or do you need to tie me up?”

Cynthia finally brought her eyes into focus and looked at me. She laughed for a minute, but it quickly turned to a sigh and she started fiddling with the ring around her neck again.

“What’s that?” I asked. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know, though. It looked like an engagement ring.

“My sacrifice.”

“It’s beautiful. Whose was it?”

“Mine.”

I gasped before I could stop myself, but Cynthia wasn’t offended. “I had to keep a lot from you, Grace, but not because I wanted to. I hated hiding things from you. I’m glad I don’t have to anymore. You remember our fight this summer?”

I smiled. “I wouldn’t have called it a fight. You were just really cranky so I told you to call me when you got over yourself. That week of silence sucked, by the way.”

“That week I’d been betrothed against my will.”

I gasped again and threw my arms around Cynthia. She laughed at my reaction, but sank into my embrace as if she still needed the comfort.

“I was much worse to everyone else, but I was so angry I couldn’t help taking it out on you, too. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s awful. I’m glad I could be a scapegoat.”

“You’ve read enough werewolf books to know a little about pack life. Well, my dad’s the alpha but he’s also a really good guy. There are some packs out there where mates are chosen for you, but my dad has never forced anyone into commitment.”

“So what happened?” I asked, pointing to the ring.

“When I turned sixteen my dad’s right hand man, so to say, second-in-command of the pack, asked my dad for my hand in marriage.”

“But you were only sixteen!” I was appalled by the thought. “How old is he?”

“He was twenty-five at the time.”

“Twenty-five? And he was eyeing a sixteen-year-old?”

“It wasn’t like that. I’m the only natural female in the pack, and the daughter of the alpha. Usually natural females are given to alphas, but in our pack the future alpha was my brother, and my dad had promised everyone a choice. He asked me if I wanted to marry Jackson and I said no, so he refused the pairing. But Jackson was very well liked by the pack. He was strong, and healthy, and a great warrior. He was very much the pride of our pack. Even my father respected him and trusted him with his life.

“Jackson convinced the pack elders that it was in the pack’s best interest to not lose our only natural female. Since I can’t go to our future alpha, they assume Preston will eventually mate with a natural female from another pack. They see pairing me to a natural male in the pack, even if not an alpha, as an opportunity to double the rate of natural females, which means more females born in the next generation. The pack elders were so adamant that my dad caved and betrothed me to Jackson. I was to become his mate on my eighteenth birthday.”

Cynthia pulled the ring from around her neck and handed it to me. “Jackson gave this to me and in return I gave him and Dad and all the elders a piece of my mind. It was so colorful and violent that the pack was forced to punish me. I was locked in solitary for a week—hence the silent treatment you got.”

I was seriously going to be sick. I couldn’t believe, especially not sitting on the front lawn of George Washington’s home, that here in America things like this were allowed to happen. “Cyn…” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Caleb stayed outside my cell the whole time and then let me cry on his shoulder for the next week. Neither of us has said a word to my father in six months. I’ve been a bitch to the entire pack—especially Jackson. But Jackson only saw it as a challenge. Wolves are like that. They’re all about dominance. Jackson had everyone in the pack fooled except for Preston, Caleb, and me. I could see it in Jackson’s eyes that he was looking forward to winning me over.
Breaking me
would be a more accurate term.”

“So what happened? How come you’re talking about all of this in the past tense? Did your dad finally let you out of it?”

Cynthia’s face became bleak. “I got lucky. Five or so weeks ago Jackson was killed.”

“Oh! That’s awful! I mean—”

Cynthia grimaced. “No, it’s okay. It was pretty awful. It devastated the pack. My father especially. Jackson had been sent on some top-secret mission and was killed by another supernatural. At least, we assume he was. None of us really knows for sure if he’s dead, but there’s not really any other explanation. He never came home, so they sent a search party. They picked up his trail and found remnants of his blood and the blood of something else. They think it was another wolf, but they couldn’t tell for sure. There was no body and no leads. They’ve given up trying to figure it out.”

We sat in silence for a couple minutes until I gave Cynthia her ring back.

“I feel awful because I’m so relieved.” Cynthia’s voice had taken on a distant quality again. “But I do feel bad that he died. That’s what this sacrifice is about. I’m trying to respect him the way he deserves. I need to put my bitterness behind me and make amends with my pack. I need to forgive my father.”

“Sounds like a good plan, I guess.”

“It’s a goal,” Cynthia corrected. “But I don’t have a plan as to how I’m going to achieve it. Even though Jackson is dead, I know now that I won’t really have a choice whenever my time comes again. I’ll be given to someone in the pack in order to avoid being traded to another pack. No one’s ever said so, but after what happened with me, we know Preston won’t have a choice, either. He’ll be forced to marry whatever natural female another pack is willing to give up. How can I forgive that?”

I had no clue.

After a few minutes of contemplative silence, Cynthia walked right up to the flames as close as she could stand the heat. “To honor those who have passed on,” she muttered. She kissed the ring, closed her eyes, and threw it into the fire. “Blessed be, Jackson.”

After she joined me again, she collected herself and smiled brightly. “Now that that’s over, on to item of business number two. Boyfriend!” She rubbed her hands together eagerly.

I was thrilled that for once Cyn’s matchmaking attempts didn’t include Ethan, but I wasn’t really in the mood to play along after learning about Preston’s fate. It wasn’t until that moment I realized I was crushing on the intense senior.

Cynthia saw my frown and stomped her foot. “No way, Grace. We’re doing this, and I’ll tell you why. None of the people here go to Atherton, so all they know about you is that you’re the awesome human who can handle the truth. See how
everyone
is watching you? All you have to do is take your pick.”

That startled me. I looked around and, sure enough, everyone
was
watching me, whether staring outright or glancing from the corners of their eyes. Everyone except for one boy standing across the fire from me. He was staring distantly into the flames just like Cynthia had done, drinking something blue that was glowing in the dark.

Of all the kids there, I’d singled him out almost immediately. I’m not sure why, but it felt as if I could sense his presence. It felt like I knew him. “Who’s that?” I asked. “Do we know him from somewhere? He seems familiar.”

Cynthia followed my gaze and frowned. “I’ve never seen him before. He’s hot, though. Good choice, Gracie. I approve.”

I wasn’t “picking” him, but if Preston really was a lost cause, then I supposed I didn’t see the harm in meeting the stranger.

“He’s not a werewolf, which is probably better for you,” Cynthia mused. “And he’s definitely not a vampire, so that’s a plus. I’m sorry, Gracie, but vampires are
so
not an option. Please, for my sake.”

I thought again of Andrew and shuddered. “Not a problem.”

“I guess he could be a nephilim.” That made me frown, so Cynthia quickly backtracked. “Maybe he’s a warlock. Or a necromancer—that would be cool. Necros are really rare and super fun for scaring people you hate, if they have any sense of humor. Ghosts are usually so happy to have someone to talk to that they’ll gladly help you haunt your enemies.”

I continued to watch the boy. He was really good-looking, but his looks were understated compared to Ethan or the Laytons. I liked that. Too beautiful like Ethan is annoying, and the Laytons are just so…intimidating.

This boy looked about my age and was a lot taller than me—not that most people aren’t a lot taller than me. I’d guess six foot one, maybe. He looked lean, like Ethan. He was well-defined but not as muscled as Caleb or Preston—another plus in my book. He had light brown hair that was just the tiniest bit shaggy, and even from across the fire and in the dark I could see that his eyes were light—probably blue. They were beautiful eyes. “Familiar,” I said again, unable to shake the feeling.

Cynthia shook her head again. “I would remember meeting him. Something about him is intriguing, though.”

I nodded. “He looks so sad. Whoever he is, he’s got a story.”

“He’s mysterious,” Cynthia agreed.

“He’s beautiful.”

As if he could feel my eyes on him, the boy shook himself from his daze and met my stare. Something flashed in his eyes. He mouthed a single word that I didn’t understand, and then he abruptly disappeared into the crowd behind him.

Cynthia and I exchanged a look. “That was weird,” I said. “I wonder what happened.”

“He recognized you, that’s what.” Cynthia jumped up and pulled me to my gimpy feet. “Come on!” she whispered urgently. “We have to find Ethan.”

“Why?”

“That guy is a stranger, and I don’t like the way he looked at you. He could be the person who tried to kill you. We need to find Ethan.”

I supposed her logic made sense, but the accusation didn’t sit well with me. “I don’t think so, Cyn. I think he just recognized me. I’m telling you, it feels like I know him.”

The crowd was thick and the ground was soft, so thanks to my crutches we’d only managed to get, like, ten feet before I felt someone behind me. Inexplicably, I knew it was him. I could feel him close. It was as if my soul yearned for him—as if he were a piece of me I’d lost long ago and we were finally being reunited.

I shivered. Could he be my soul mate? I’d never believed those existed—but then I’d never believed in werewolves or vampires, either.

I turned around to greet him, ask him who he was, and if he felt the same way I did, but all logical thought left me as I got caught in his stare. His beautiful, sad eyes drank in the sight of me as though he thought I was a dream. The only word I could push from my chest was a breathless “Hi.”

The boy dropped the cup in his hand and stepped toward me, making my heart speed up in a way it never had before. “I knew you’d find me,” he said, and then suddenly his lips crashed down on mine.

I should have pulled away. The boy was a stranger after all, and I’d been down that road before. But the way this boy kissed me was pure bliss. It was gentle and rough and angry and loving all at the same time. His hands were in my hair and on my cheeks, memorizing everything about me, and then they were around my waist, trapping me against his body. Yes, I should have pulled away and slapped him. Instead, I melted. Sighing against his mouth, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back.

As soon as he felt me respond, his desperation morphed into something so raw and sincere it brought moisture to my eyes. I doubted anyone had ever been kissed quite like this. I didn’t understand it, but if true love could be a kiss, then this was it. My knees gave out, but that didn’t end the kiss. The boy simply held me up and whispered, “I love you, Dani.”