A Shade of Vampire 25: A Clan of Novaks (11 page)

As I sensed the early morning hours approaching, I heard knocking against wood. Assuming that it was someone outside my door, I slipped out of bed when I heard a creaking. The door next to mine swung open—the door to Bastien’s apartment. Shivering from the cold, I crawled back into my bed and enveloped myself in blankets again.

Muffled voices came through the wall, but I could not make out what they were saying until they rose a little louder.

“But Bastien, how do you know she is not a hunter?” A deep, gravelly voice spoke. Sergius, in his wolf form.

I froze.
Whom else could he be talking about but me?

Although I felt guilty for eavesdropping, I couldn’t help but hurry to the wall now and press my ear against it.

“I told you already,” Bastien said, exasperation in his tone. “She is just a girl!”

“But it could all be a lie,” Sergius pressed. “You have spoken about how cunning these hunters are. She could be a plant… a plant meant to gain your trust in order to spy and locate the packs of The Woodlands that remain standing strong.”

“She’s not,” Bastien said. “Too many things about our meeting just wouldn’t make sense in that scenario.”

There was another pause.

“Well,” Sergius said, clearing his throat, “Brucella is not comfortable with her here.”

“Ah, Brucella. It always comes down to her, doesn’t it? Uncle, I mean you no disrespect, but are you not your own man? Are you not the leader of this pack? Have you no control over your wife’s whims?”

“I’m sorry, Bastien,” Sergius replied, his tone subdued. “You know how your aunt is, and especially after everything you told her last night, she has been hysterical. I insisted that you trusted the human girl, and that should be enough for her, but she’s unable to think straight… She wants her gone by tomorrow.”

My breath hitched.
Gone
.
Where to?

A deathly silence fell on the other side of the wall. Then Bastien replied, stoic and clipped, “By getting rid of her, you’ll be getting rid of me.”

Sergius exhaled in frustration. “Bastien, why must you be like this?”

“If it weren’t for her, I would not even be here,” Bastien growled. “No matter what you—or should I say Brucella—suspect of her intentions, I cannot simply cast her aside. Do you really think I could be so callous, after all we’ve survived together? If any of you knew of another gate to the human realm, I could send her back. But until we discover such a portal, she remains under my care. Just give the word, and we will leave.”

I felt a stab of guilt. Brucella seemed to have had it out for me the moment she laid eyes on me, but I hated feeling like such a burden. Bastien desperately needed the cooperation of other wolves if they ever had a chance of salvaging their land, and having me here was doing nothing but throwing a wrench in the works.
Ugh, how I wish that portal had just been open and led to somewhere safe…
I could’ve returned through it, rather than continuing to be a burden hanging around Bastien’s neck.

“Well,” Sergius said, after a painfully long pause, “I see you are firm in your stance. I will tell your aunt and see if she still insists.”

A few moments later, the front door to Bastien’s apartment opened and then closed again. Sergius had left.

Now what?

A
s morning arrived
, sunshine streamed through the small window in the corner of my room. I got out of bed and took a quick bucket bath—with cold water—before leaving my apartment and arriving outside Bastien’s door. To my surprise, it was open. I peeked inside and called out his name. No reply.

I wandered inside, finding myself searching very similar quarters to my own, but Bastien was nowhere to be seen. The apartment was empty.

I wasn’t sure what else to do but to return to my place and wait. Eventually, I heard footsteps in the corridor outside my door. Then three knocks. I hobbled to open it. Bastien stood before me in his human form, a black robe wrapped around him, his eyes alert and intense.

“I overheard your conversation with Sergius last night,” I confessed, before he could say anything.

“I suspected you might have,” he said, striding inside and closing the door. “Anyhow, I’ve just been to speak to my aunt. She has agreed to allow you to stay.”

“Oh,” I said. From his expression, I’d been expecting him to tell me quite the opposite. “Why?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“She was more reasonable when I went to see her this morning. Though don’t be under any illusions that she trusts you,” he added, concern in his eyes. “But you can stay among the Northstones until we find another portal.”

Until
. I couldn’t shake the fear that it was more a question of
if
, having learned that none of these wolves knew where another gate was.

“All right,” I said, swallowing. “Thank you.”

“While I was downstairs,” he went on, “we also had a meeting. Sergius, Brucella, and the other prominent members of this pack attended.” He moved to the bed and sat down. I followed, taking a seat next to him. “We discussed what our next step must be. They were in favor of launching an attack on the hunters’ lair immediately. That is only to be expected, because none of them witnessed for themselves the hunters’ beasts and weaponry. I succeeded in swaying them toward a different course of action—rallying all those who are willing to be rallied. We must scour The Woodlands in its entirety and gather together all the tribes that have not yet been eradicated or compromised by the hunters. Those who are still unaware of the hunters’ presence must be warned, and persuaded to join us. Then, once we have gathered together, we must choose somewhere large enough and well hidden enough to base ourselves, and hold a meeting to decide on the best course of attack.”

“But these packs seem to be so disconnected,” I said. “Even if you traveled to each of them and informed them of hunters, would they even believe you? Would they agree to join you?”

“We can only try,” Bastien said, rubbing his temples. “The more packs we manage to accumulate along the way, the easier it will become to gain trust. We do after all share the same land.”

“Do you know why there’s such strife between packs?” I asked. It was something I had been wondering for a long time.

He shrugged. “This was simply the world into which I was born.” He paused, seemingly drifting into his own thoughts, before snapping himself back to reality. “Everyone is preparing to leave now. We plan to depart as soon as possible, in less than an hour.” He stood up, tightening his robe around his waist, even as it draped to reveal his muscled chest. “We have no idea how long we will be traveling so we must take plenty of garments with us,” he went on. “I requested Lavonna to come up to your room in a few minutes to provide you with some. In the meantime I have some preparations of my own to make, and”—his eyes lowered to my ankle—“I should dress that again before we leave.”

Then he stood and, without a backward glance, strode out of the room, leaving me to absorb everything he’d just said.

I wondered how many tribes there were in The Woodlands in total. How long we would need to be traveling. Whether anyone among them would know of another gate.

I stood up and moved to the window, gazing out at the view—beyond the clearing at the base of this mountain was nothing but woods, woods, and more woods, for as far as I could see.

A sudden rapping at the door made me jump. I had barely turned around when the handle creaked and the door pushed open. I expected to see Lavonna standing in the doorway, as Bastien had predicted, but instead there stood Brucella.

I stopped still, gazing at her she entered the apartment and closed the door behind her. She was carrying a bundle of clothes in her hands and a brown woven satchel. She met my eyes only briefly, in a glower, before striding further into the apartment and entering the bedroom where I stood. She planted the items down on the bed briskly before facing me. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face red and puffy, as though she had been crying still. However, when she spoke, her voice was surprisingly steady. “I have come to bring these for you instead of Lavonna,” she explained.

“Oh,” I murmured. “Thanks.”

An awkward pause followed as her eyes roamed me from head to toe.

“Is there, um, anything else?” I asked.

She stepped forward. I instinctively stepped back.

A small, artificial smile crossed her full lips, a smile that was more disconcerting than her glare. “Yes,” she said. “There is something. I would like to ask you a question.”

I flinched as she shot out a hand and laid it on my shoulder. From the steeliness of her gaze, I had half been expecting her to slap me across the face. She closed the distance between us, until our faces were but a few inches apart. Then she breathed, “Is my nephew still a virgin?”

My eyes bulged. “
What?
” I choked.
How would I know that?

Her eyes narrowed, her grip on my shoulder tightening a little. “Don’t play coy with me,” she said, her voice a lot harsher than it had been a second ago.

“I
seriously
have no idea what you’re talking about.” The blood rose to my cheeks.

Her brows knotted. “So you are telling me that you have not soiled him?”

Soiled him?

“No!” I yelped.

Her steely blue eyes dug into me, as if trying to fish for a lie in my irises. I held her gaze, defiant. She would find no guilt in my gaze.
That much is for sure…

Finally, her grip slackened on my shoulder and she took a step back.

“Hm,” she murmured, softly. Then her plastic smile reappeared. “Good. Because you should know that he has been betrothed since he was a child to my own daughter, Rona.”

I had to fight to keep my expression from turning to disgust.
Bastien is betrothed to his cousin?
That would be like me being engaged to Ben or Jeramiah.
Ugh.

I cleared my throat. “I assure you, Mrs. Northstone, there is absolutely nothing of that sort going on between Bastien and me. It would be a stretch to even call us friends. We’re just two people thrown together by circumstance. If I could just find a safe gate that would lead me home, I would not even be here.”

She hm’ed again softly. “For your sake, my dear, I hope so.”

With one last biting glare, she turned on her heels and left the room, leaving me gaping after her.

M
an
, these she-wolves are more fierce than their male counterparts.

“For your sake, my dear, I hope so.”

What on earth did Brucella mean by that? Was she threatening me?

Resuming my seat on the mattress, I tried to shake away the encounter, but since I had nothing else to do in this apartment that could distract me, it continued to play back in my mind until eventually there was another knock at my door. I was half afraid that it might be her again, but no. To my relief, it was Bastien standing in the doorway, fully dressed in his usual loose, casual garb.

“Are you all right?” he asked as his eyes roamed my face. “You look pale.”

“Yes, I’m okay,” I said, even as I wondered whether to mention the encounter with Brucella to Bastien. I supposed it was best that I did. “It’s just that your, uh, aunt visited.”

Bastien’s jaw tensed. “What did she want?”

“Well, she brought me some clothes and a satchel to put them in,” I said, gesturing to the bed where she had left the items and where they still sat, untouched by me. “And then she, uh, informed me that you are betrothed to Rona.”

Bastien scowled, shaking his head. “She just won’t let that lie.”

“So you are really betrothed to your cousin?” I asked.

“Yes, she is meant for me,” he said through gritted teeth. “If and when I decide to marry.”

He dipped into his pocket and withdrew a long band of fabric. I sat down on the bed as he lowered to my ankle and held it. He raised it gently and unwrapped the old cloth before starting on the new one. As he wrapped the bandage round and round, he concentrated with such focus, it was almost like it was some kind of therapy for him.

Once he’d finished, he stood up and walked to the window. He gazed out at the clear blue sky and turned his back on me.

“I was supposed to marry Rona last year,” he muttered after a span of silence. “But I put it off. I was not interested in entering such a bond as marriage then… and neither am I now.”

I bit my lip, unsure of what to say when he went quiet again. Whether he even expected me to say anything at all.

“The delay has been one reason that the relationship between the Northstones and the Blackhalls has been more strained than it once was,” he went on.

“Does Rona know?” I asked, recalling her warm smile as she greeted me, quite unlike her mother’s icy glare. She had been the friendliest of the three women to me, which struck me as odd.

Bastien shook his head. “No. It’s a custom of our tribes to have the man be the one to inform the woman. Rona’s parents informed her from an early age that she has been betrothed to someone and will have a husband—to ensure she does not go looking for a mate herself—but she does not know whom.”

“I see,” I said, even as I frowned. At least that would explain Rona having no reason to be jealous of me.

There was another lapse of silence as he continued to gaze out of the window. I found myself wondering whether we shouldn’t be heading down by now—after all, Bastien had said that we would leave within an hour. I was sure more time had passed.

Piling the clothes into the satchel, I rested it over one shoulder before approaching him. I stood next to him by the window, daring to steal a glance at his face. His expression was stoic, quite devoid of emotion, except for his eyes. Behind them brewed a storm of discontent.

His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed hard. Then he spoke in a voice so soft I wondered whether he was talking to himself more than to me. “My heart wants to be wild,” he whispered. “Free. Like my feet in an endless meadow. My arms in the mighty trees. I cannot stand enclosures.” Finally, his eyes lowered and met mine, penetrating. “You understand that, don’t you?”

I nodded, my mouth oddly dry. “Of course,” I said. His gaze suddenly felt a little too intense to hold. I looked back out of the window.

“But I don’t understand why you can’t be free,” I dared go on. “Why you can’t be wild. Surely you don’t have to marry Rona if you don’t want to.”
As you said to Sergius last night, are you not your own man?

He shook his head, a bitter smile crossing his face. “That kind of transgression is simply not made in werewolf tribes. Once two wolves have been marked for each other, no other wolf will dare touch them, lest they face the wrath of the bride’s family.” He chuckled sourly. “No other girl would marry me. Not with Brucella involved.”

I cleared my throat. I could kind of sympathize with that… “Well, being single can be fulfilling, too,” I said. “Not everyone has to get married to be happy.”

He nodded again, though from the look in his eyes, something told me that he didn’t quite believe it.

“Anyway.” He drew in a deep breath, apparently coming to his senses and realizing the time. “We should leave.”