Ellida (6 page)

I decided I wouldn’t ask about Peyton. Not
tonight.

“That girl, Peyton,” I said and closed my
eyes, embarrassed.

“Ah, I knew there was a monster here, a
green-eyed one,” Jack said and kissed the tip of my nose. “It was
long ago, it didn’t last long, and it wasn’t serious. You asked me,
and I told you there was nobody else. Open your eyes, Astrid.”

I did, and my face burned.

“There is nobody else, Astrid. You are the
only one. I love
you
.” His lips gently brushed mine. “Talk
to me, always. Don’t wrestle with your demons alone.”

“Oh, Jack, my wolf almost came out today.
She’s among her own kind, she wants to be here, where she belongs.
And then that girl came and… Jack, she’s still in love with you,
you’re aware of that, aren’t you?”

He looked at me, genuinely surprised. “No,
Astrid. She’s like family to me now. We are friends, like you and
Ingmar. Peyton’s a good person. She’s had a complicated and not
very happy life.”

“I know. Your mother told me about it.”

“Peyton is gentle, caring and considerate.
People here like her a lot. It’s her mother you probably should be
wary of, not Peyton.”

Typically for his gender when it came to the
male-female subtle emotional messages, Jack didn’t see the obvious,
and I didn’t think I could convince him that Peyton still had
strong feelings for him. He didn’t share her feelings, and assumed
she felt the same.

For Jack, the topic was closed. He kissed me
again, lovingly, tenderly, moving from my lips to my neck, and
further down until I moaned softly and was breathing heavily.

“You sure nobody can hear us?” I murmured
holding his head between my hands, gently threading my fingers
through his hair.

He chuckled. “Nobody can hear us. Miss Spock.
Don’t worry.”

Jack took his time kissing my breasts,
kneading them gently, teasing their hard tips with his lips, tongue
and teeth. I lost track of time and place. I was transported into a
realm of pure physical pleasure and emotional fulfillment where
nothing else existed except my body, Jack’s mouth on it and the
beating of our hearts.

I could feel the sweet pressure building
inside the darkest depths of my womb. My flesh throbbed, swollen
and moist, my own scent reached my nostrils and I inhaled it
deeply. It smelled good, womanly, sexy and primal.

I bent my knees and opened my legs, but Jack
ignored the invitation, staying focused on my breasts and nipples,
sucking them, loving them, torturing them, sending ripples of
happiness further and further down, until they reached the
pulsating, nerve-rich nub between my thighs.

A gentle brush of Jack’s fingers over my
swollen flesh, and I disintegrated into thousands of weightless
fragments of light.

Eons passed before I became aware of a tiny
bead that snuck out from the corner of my eye. Jack’s lips caught
it before it disappeared behind my ear. I let out a tiny sob.

“I love you, Jack. Oh, God, I love you so
much,” I whispered and showered him with fast, feathery touches of
my lips against his mouth, eyes, cheeks, chin. I breathed in his
scent, musky and sweet from the hard arousal pressing through his
jeans against my abdomen.

“I love you, too, Astrid,” he said, pressing
his lips against mine in another long, hot kiss.

We spent the rest of the night cuddling and
talking. Jack teased me about my new teacher, and told me frankly
that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the whole notion. “I still
think it’s an excellent idea to equip you with some human fighting
skills. Morgaine will explain to you all the benefits. I only wish
your teacher were less dashing.” An involuntary, nervous chuckle
escaped from his chest. “Damn it, he looks like one of your movie
crushes.”

“Yes, he’s good-looking, but don’t forget I
like them older,” I said, laughing.

“Yeah, that will give me peace of mind.”

IT WAS close to dawn when we heard James and
Betty in the kitchen. “Are you sure they didn’t hear us?” I said.
“I can hear them now.”

“But they still cannot hear us. All the
bedrooms are soundproofed. We didn’t hear them while they were in
their room, did we?”

“No… Oh, God, Jack, how can you even say
that? They are your parents!”

“I can still imagine a very tender farewell
that took place last night.”

“Then stop imagining, please!”

He laughed and kissed me. “They love each
other very much. Betty doesn’t like when James leaves, no matter
how short the trip, and he’s never happy to leave her, except maybe
when he goes fishing.” He fastened his arms around me. “I don’t
like leaving you, either. When everything’s over, you’ll always go
with me. Okay?”

“But when we have children?” I said, trying
to imagine that future. Husband, children, my own family.

“We’ll leave them with their grandparents,
great-grandparents, uncles and aunts. Even with Ingmar. I’ll teach
them how to drive him crazy. And, of course, with Liv and Tristan.
Can you imagine better babysitters than the Blakes?”

I laughed. “Hardly.”

Jack tucked the blanket around me. “Off I go
now. Take a good shower before you go down.” He lowered his head
and kissed me. “Wait for me, baby. I’ll be back before you start
missing me.”

“I have no plans to go anywhere,” I whispered
on his mouth, stealing one more kiss.

In a few long strides, Jack crossed the room
and jumped through the window. I hugged the pillow and closed my
eyes. I could pick up traces of his scent trapped in the
fabric.

I fell into a light morning sleep mingled
with vivid memories of our night.

A LOT of people passed through the house in
the next couple of days to greet Morgaine and to see me. A formal
dinner was planned for Saturday and a big outdoor party for the
entire town later in spring.

My training started on Monday, six o’clock
sharp. Takeshi waited for me with a bundle in his hands. He was
dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and black cotton pants.

“Change into this, please,” he said and threw
me the clothes.

It was the same garment he wore. We were
almost the same height and size and his clothes fit me
perfectly.

We had one of the big ground level rooms at
our disposal. The furniture and carpets had been removed the night
before.

Takeshi started with a short introduction to
Japanese martial arts. “Budō, the way of war, and bujitsu, the
science of war are the essential terms—”

“Like theory and practice?”

“If you have to simplify it, then yes,
Astrid. As you know, martial arts aren’t a recreational physical
activity; it’s a way of life that constantly improves your
physical, spiritual, intellectual, and moral dimensions.” He
stopped for a moment, clearing his throat. “Unfortunately, our time
is limited, so in spite of my resentment towards this ankle-deep
kind of training, I’ll give you some basic fighting techniques. I
hope that you’ll catch the spiritual dimension down the road.
You’re probably the only person who I would agree to train this
way. But I understand you have to have alternative ways to defend
yourself. I just need you to know that I’m not happy doing
this.”

So far, that was the longest speech that I’d
heard from this quiet, serious young man. All my previous attempts
to start a conversation with him had resulted in one-syllable
answers.

“Why’s it so important that I go through
this?” I said.

“Mother will talk to you about that.”

We started with some basic aikido: lots of
striking, throwing and joint locking. “I’ll show you a different
way to use the energy you already possess,” Takeshi said. “This
technique requires very little physical strength, but significant
mental abilities, so you should be fine. The goal is to predict the
motion of the opponent and neutralize the attack, before it even
occurs rather than waste energy fighting it.”

“In other words, I have to learn to think
like my opponent?”

“You unnecessarily simplify things, Astrid.
Maybe
feel
, or
breathe
like your opponent would
better describe the notion. Use your natural energy flow, but not
more than that. No wizard tricks, please.”

The first day was a disaster. I simply
couldn’t grasp what Takeshi wanted from me. I could not please him,
and he would ask me to endlessly repeat a single movement.

By the end of the session, I was tired and
frustrated, but determined to work even harder to make some sense
of it.

“Same time tomorrow,” was all Takeshi
said.

MY FIRST session with Morgaine was
immeasurably more pleasant. We sat in the family room and talked.
She asked me about my childhood, my studies, my job, my wolf and
her behavior. Lots of small things she found important. Then I
asked questions and she answered them.

“Why do I need to be trained in human combat
disciplines?”

“There’re certain circumstances when you
can’t use your wizard skills or change shape and use your werewolf
powers,” she said. “In pregnancy, for example. Any excessive use of
energy may harm the fetus. Shape-shifting is out of the question
after the first trimester. Usually, our vulnerability during
pregnancy isn’t a big deal because we’re protected by our partners,
our families and the entire clan. Seth might just wait for you to
get pregnant to try something stupid again. It would be wise to
know some alternative defense techniques.”

“Oh, I see.” Now everything made sense. That
was the reason why Takeshi had reluctantly agreed to train me in
“martial arts for dummies”.

“I knew your mother, Astrid, and I liked her
a lot,” Morgaine said out of the blue, locking her sage-green eyes
with mine. “I’m her godmother; I chose her name.” She smiled. “I
named her after Sir Walter Scott’s heroine.”

“Lady Rowena from
Ivanhoe
,” I said
quietly.

“Rowena means fair in Welsh, and happiness in
Old German. Your mother was born with a tuft of light hair, but she
grew up into a dark-haired girl. She was beautiful. A bit wild,
spoiled, temperamental, but a good kid. Astrid, whatever they say
about her here, you must never believe she was a bad person. And
you’re the proof. There’s still plenty of animosity toward her
here, but that’s because nobody knows her well.”

“It’s easy to blame her. She can’t defend
herself.”

“It’s interesting that Betty and Jack are far
more tolerant when it comes to your mother. Your uncle’s stubborn
with his prejudices, but he’ll come around. You’ll soften him.
Remember, your mother is among the few people who know exactly what
happened twenty five years ago and why. She’ll tell us soon, I
hope.”

I swallowed hard. “How soon? When am I going
to see her?”

“Astrid, sooner or later this little business
with Seth is going to be over. I know Rowena never wanted anybody
dead, especially not her husband or Brian. She’s a wizard, a
protector of life. Keep that in mind. This being said, tell me now
about your transformations.”

I answered Morgaine’s questions, but my
thoughts kept dwelling on her remarks about my mother. In the last
several weeks, I’d heard something similar from Jack and Betty. And
after my last change, while we were in the cabin, I’d heard Livia
hissing at Tristan that my mother was innocent and anybody who
still didn’t see that was a bloody blockhead.

THE NEXT day Takeshi showed up with two
wooden swords. “We’ll alternate aikido and kenjutsu for a while,”
he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Great. By tomorrow, I’ll
forget whatever aikido you taught me yesterday, and then we’ll have
to start from scratch.”

“We’ll keep trying it for a couple more days,
but in spite of your admirable mental and spiritual capabilities,
you might not be able to learn aikido. And I think I know why.”

I patiently waited to hear the
explanation.

“As I mentioned,” my teacher said, “you have
to blend with the motion of your opponent, feel like him, become
him. By your nature, however, you’re a defender, not an attacker,
so you cannot feel like one. Make sense?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think it would. Never mind.
Kenjutsu might work better for you, I think. Later we’ll also
include kyudu, the art of the bow, in your training.”

This time I just shrugged. “Whatever.”

To my delight, kenjutsu was a lot more fun. I
liked the feeling of the wooden handle in my hands. It fitted there
naturally and I apparently grasped it correctly the moment Takeshi
gave me the sword because he nodded briefly upon seeing it. Time
flew that morning, and when we finished, I caught myself waiting
for Thursday and my next lesson.

Except when he gave me instructions, my
teacher remained tongue-tied. In the next couple of days, I made a
few more attempts to talk to him, with no success. After our
lessons he would usually stay in the training room.

My easy-going cousin wasn’t any more
successful. Takeshi politely ignored Eamon’s various attempts to
improve his social life.

Takeshi wasn’t completely absorbed in his
martial arts world. He spent evenings in the well-supplied Mohegan
library reading. He was fluent in several languages. When I finally
managed to engage him in short conversations, he demonstrated a
solid knowledge of various subjects and plenty of cool, logical
reasoning. No wonder—his mother was half-wizard.

Being of mixed heritage not unlike my own, I
would have expected him to be more open and warm, not so
emotionally controlled. Or maybe he was just still too young or
he’d been spending too much time with his swords and bows. He
didn’t strike me as an unhappy person, or a loner, but rather as a
man who chose his company very carefully.