The Xoe Meyers Trilogy (Xoe Meyers Young Adult Fantasy/Horror Series) (25 page)

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Tags: #Vampires, #Werewolves, #demons, #Teen & Young Adult, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Romance, #paranormal urban fantasy, #coming of age fantasy, #Witches

BOOK: The Xoe Meyers Trilogy (Xoe Meyers Young Adult Fantasy/Horror Series)
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I was becoming very tired of Abel. The wolves in my living room stayed where they were sitting and waited with identical expressions on their faces: mild curiosity, with an edge of tension in response to the possible danger. It still creeped me out to see Lucy that way.

I turned back to my dad. “What did you mean about me being in danger?” There, that sounded nice and steady. Xoe, large and in charge.

“WhenAbel contacted me this morning to tell me of the possibility of you becoming a pack leader,” he began, “he also informed me that several wolves throughout California have gone missing. One has been found dead. I did some research and found three other missing persons cases, two in California, and one in Oregon. Upon further investigation, I realized that all three were alleged supernaturals: two witches and a merperson.”

“Well aren’t you a regular Nancy Drew,” I said snarkily.

“Pay attention Alexondra,” he replied sharply, sounding too much like a parent for someone who hadn’t actually lived the role. “We don’t know who’s doing this.”

I cocked my head, thinking, but my brain wasn’t letting me put two and two together. “What does this have to do with me?”

My dad rolled his eyes. “Someone is abducting, and likely killing, supernatural beings. They worked their way up California, and have now moved on to Oregon.”

“And you don’t know who’s doing it?” I asked, trying to buy myself some time to think.

“If I knew,” he said bluntly, “they would have already been stopped.”

Before I could process what ‘stopping’ them implied, I was distracted by movement at the front door. “Alex?” a small voice questioned.

My dad and I both spun, seeking the source of the voice. My mom was standing in the doorway, dressed in her khaki trench coat and dark brown, low-heeled boots. As soon as my dad fully faced her, she dropped her purse and shopping bags to the ground and stood flabbergasted, jaw agape.

“Hello Libby,” my dad said calmly, slightly bowing his head in greeting.

My mom stormed into the living room. “Get . . . out! Get out! Get out! Get out!”

My dad just stood there for a moment, then walked right out the front door, not loosing a single iota of his calm. He shut the front door gently behind him. My mom stared at the door, stunned. Lucy, Max, Nick and Lela were glued to their seats, looking more like frightened lambs than big bad wolves.

My mom turned horrified eyes to me. “What was he doing here Xoe?”

“I’ll explain in a minute,” I answered. “Would you please wait upstairs for me?”

My mom nodded, acting more like a child than a mother, no arguing whatsoever. She must have been seriously freaked. I turned away as the sound of her boots clicked hurriedly up the stairs. The four wolves stood. Lucy came forward and gave me a quick hug. “We should go. We’ll talk more about everything later.”

I nodded numbly. “I’ll walk you out.”

As we walked out of my house I saw that my dad was still waiting outside, haloed by my front porch light. With the light reflecting off his pale skin and hair, he looked like some sort of solemn angel, but I definitely knew better than that. The only car outside was my mom’s, so Lela, Nick, and Max had all apparently walked to my house, or maybe Max had a ride, he lived several miles away. Whatever. The four of them walked together down the street toward Lucy’s house, though where Max and Nick would go, I didn’t know. I realized that I didn’t know where Lela was staying either, then realized that, at the moment, I didn’t really care. I had bigger problems.

My dad walked up to stand beside me while I watched everyone else go. I stifled a shiver at the feeling of his presence so near. Once again the only car outside was my mom’s, so my dad had apparently walked too. Or maybe he just went ‘poof’ and appeared at my door. I was betting on the latter. I just couldn’t picture him strolling down my quaint neighborhood street. Plus, his expensive loafers were definitely not meant for extended outdoor travel.

Once my friends were out of sight, he turned to regard me. “You need protection.”

I kept my eyes focused on the now empty dark street. “Since when do you care?” I asked tiredly.

Ignoring my question he spoke again. “You should refuse the Pack Leader position. You don’t understand how wolves can be, what the meetings will be like. It’s a very
different
type of society.”

I shrugged in reply, not caring to have his opinion on the subject.

He was silent for several minutes. “I’ll be sending someone to watch over you.” With that, he walked a few steps toward the street. He spoke without turning to face me. “I didn’t leave by choice, you know.” 

Then he really did go ‘poof’, well it was more of a whoosh, leaving a cloud of smoke in his wake. I wasn’t even surprised. That tells you just how weird the past few months had been for me.

Chapter Five

I
wasn’t looking forward to what I had to do next, but my mom was waiting patiently for me upstairs. I stood alone in my driveway and debated whether or not I could just follow in the direction Lucy, Max, Nick, and Lela had gone. With a sigh, I turned dutifully on my heel and marched back into my house, locking the door behind me. I kept my forward momentum and marched straight upstairs and down the hall to my mom’s room.

I stood and took a deep breath before I pushed her bedroom door open and stepped into the dark red and purple themed interior. She was curled up on her burgundy bedspread with her back to me, still in her beige trench coat. Her face was hidden by waves of her brown hair. I sat beside her on the bed and waited for her to speak.

“What’s going on Xoe?” she asked without looking at me.

I paused before speaking. I had a feeling that it was a mistake to let her in on everything, but it would also make life a little less complicated. “There are some things you need to know, but I have one question first.”

My mom rolled onto her other side and looked up at me with her honey brown eyes puffy from crying. She waited for the question, not saying anything.

Here goes. “Why am I named after him? If dad left before I was born, why would you give me a name so similar to his?”

My mom looked down at her bed and started tracing her finger across the subtle embroidery on her comforter. For a moment I thought she wasn’t going to answer, then she finally replied, “I’ll tell you the truth, then you’ll tell me everything?”

I nodded, then realized my mom was so intent on her bedspread that she didn’t notice. “Yes.” I replied as I lowered myself to sit on the bed beside her.

My mom took in a deep breath and let it out. “Your dad didn’t leave until shortly after your first birthday.”

My jaw dropped, she’d always told me he left when he found out she was pregnant. “What?”

My mom finally met my eyes. “And it wasn’t his choice, exactly.”

I crossed my arms and waited for her to elaborate.

She grabbed my hand, forcing it back down by my side. “It was in the early spring,” she began. “I took you to the park, and your dad was going to meet us there. We were going to have a picnic. It was still pretty cold out, so we were the only ones there. I had you in your stroller and we were waiting near the parking lot for your dad to show up. There was a man and he . . . he ran up behind me and grabbed my purse.” She paused, eyes staring as if she was seeing the scene played before her eyes. “I should have just let him take it,” she said quickly. “But . . . I don’t know why, I held on. He pushed your stroller over to distract me.”

When she stopped speaking I squeezed her hand a little tighter and waited for her to go on.

After a shuddering breath, she continued, “Out of nowhere, your dad appeared. He hadn’t pulled up in his car, he was just
there
. He righted the stroller and made sure you were okay. You had started crying as soon as your stroller was pushed over. Yet you stopped the second your dad got there, even before he picked the stroller up. You had been connected to your dad like that since birth. You never cried around him.”

“What happened after dad got there?” I prompted, noticing her subtle attempt to end the story.

My mom was silent for a moment, her face completely blank. Finally she went on. “He went after the attacker. The man just stood gaping at your dad, probably wondering where he had come from. When the attacker realized your dad’s intent, he turned to run, but your dad knocked him down and was just suddenly on him. I just watched. I didn’t know what to do. Your dad wrapped his hands around the man’s throat. I smelled this horrible burning smell.”

Her voice had faded so that I could barely hear her. I had to lean my head right by her face to hear what she said next. “A few seconds later your dad stood and turned to face me. He told me not to look, but . . . the man’s neck was just gone, reduced to ash.”

“Ash?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “I know it sounds crazy, but that’s what I saw. I tried to tell myself that my mind was playing tricks on me, but I’ve never been able to wipe the memory away.”

“What happened next?” I asked.

“I grabbed you out of your stroller and ran. It was stupid of me, but I didn’t even put you in your car seat. I held you in my lap while I drove home, then I went inside and locked all of the doors, only to realize that your dad was already inside the house. He had somehow gotten there before me. I told him to get out, that I never wanted to see him again. He had
killed
a man. Your dad left, but he said he’d come back once I had calmed down. As soon as he was gone, I packed a few things, took you, and left.” She took another shuddering breath. “Today was the first time I’ve seen him since that day.”

“So you left him because he killed a guy?” I prompted.

She breathed in and seemed to mentally gather herself before she explained. “That was only part of it. I mean, I was of course horrified by that fact, but I also feared the consequences of your dad’s actions. What if there was an investigation? A dead man in a park with his throat burnt away would raise more than a few eyebrows. Plus, I had to wonder what else your dad had done that I didn’t know about. Maybe if it was just me I would have stayed to find out, but I felt I was protecting you. I had no idea what else he might be capable of, or if he was even . . . human.”

Okay, I just had to ask. “What did the police think...you know, when they found the body?”

My mom shrugged as a few more tears fell down her face. “I checked the papers for months. The body was never found. That fact alone helped me stay strong in my decision.”

I raised my eyebrows in question.

“Your dad must have gotten rid of the body,” she explained. “He could have covered up so many other things. I’m not sure I really ever knew him at all.”

I felt a little sick thinking of the Dan incident, and how I could actually relate to what my dad had done. I couldn’t really throw stones at someone for being involved in covering up a murder.

Not noticing my reverie, my mom wrapped up her explanation. “And that’s it, that’s why you never knew your father. As time passed, I stopped thinking about him as much. I focused all of my attention on you.”

It was a lot to take in, but it made sense. I finally knew why my dad had left us, or, I guess, why we left him. “Were you guys married?”

“No. We had planned on it. We had a date set and everything.”

“Oh,” I replied. So he hadn’t run scared when my mom dropped the news of her pregnancy on him. He had planned to stay.

My mom sat up and leaned her back against her headboard, then put her arm around my shoulders and drew me over to sit right beside her. She gave her body a shake and settled back in, as if casting away the residue of her past experience. I wished I could do that. 

“Now,” my mom said, “your turn.”

“Okay,” I began, “not really sure where to start.”

“Start with why your dad was here. He is gone, isn’t he?”

I laughed. “Yeah, he’s gone, for now.”

My mom let out a nervous chuckle. “Good. Now explain.”

I turned toward my mom to give her direct eye contact, so she’d know I was serious. “Dad’s a demon.”

My mom squinted her eyes in confusion. “I’ll admit, the man has his faults, but calling him a demon is a little harsh. I’ve come to terms with the fact that what he did to that man, he did to protect us. Even if I can’t fully accept what he did, or even understand
how
he did it, I know
why
he did it.”

I sighed. “No. I mean he’s actually a demon, like a magical . . . being. You said it yourself that you questioned whether he was even human.”

My mom raised her eyebrows at me skeptically, but her eyes were uncertain. Her face slowly fell into worried lines. “The combusting appliances?”

I nodded my head and pointed a finger at my chest. “Half-demon.”

“I don’t understand,” she replied. “I mean I do,” she went on. “I of course always suspected something of your dad, ever since that day. But a demon? Like from Hell?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know the exact details of where demons come from, but think less like Heaven and Hell, and more like legends and monsters.”

My mom held a hand up to her eyes and shook her head. “This is ridiculous. Your dad is
not
a demon. He’s obviously filled your head with nonsense.”

“I
am
a demon mom,” I argued. “I’d light something on fire right now if I were actually able to control it.”

She suddenly looked angry. “Stop it, Xoe. No matter what he told you, you’re not a demon.”

“I am!” I shouted, feeding off her sudden anger.

There was a crashing sound behind me, followed by a woosh of flame. My mom screamed, and I hopped off to see the lamp that rested on her bedside table shattered, with its remnants somehow aflame. I grabbed a pillow off her bed and snuffed out the flame, then turned back to my mom as I tried to regain my breath.

She stared at me in awe.

“I told you so,” I said sullenly.

She started crying again. “I’m losing my mind,” she muttered.

I sat back down on the bed and hesitantly touched her shoulder.

She slumped beneath my touch, and seemed unable to meet my eyes. “I’m going to need some time to process this,” she said finally.

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