Eighteen
She climbed up the natural ladder to the top and looked down at the Wood, circled by flames. This was her last moment in this reality. Tristan had pushed her too far, taken too much. The face of the little girl she’d found in the trunk was forever branded into her mind. Blood would be paid. Tristan would bleed for the dryad lives he’d taken, but also for her unborn baby that she would never meet in this life.
She began to walk at a steady pace. The mountain towering in front of her. What was she going to do? She was going to end this…but how? What did she have to fight with?
A chill swept up her body and she stopped. Sophie smiled as she heard it coming up behind her. She turned, her gaze cutting through the shadows.
“Come here. Don’t be scared.”
The shadow she created looked back at her from the darkness with its glowing green eyes. “I’m sorry, mother. I failed to kill him. I want to try again.”
Inspiration and pressure filled Sophie to a height she had never experienced. “I said, come here.”
“Why?”
“I need you. Come back inside me. We’ll kill him together. Together maybe we’ll be strong enough.”
The silhouette slunk forward. “I am my own. I don’t want to disappear.”
“Too bad,” Sophie lunged forward catching the art with both hands.
They struggled. It tried to slip from her grasp. She thought it would reabsorb as soon as she touched it. It pulled her down and they rolled on the ground. Sophie pinned it and it quit fighting but it wouldn’t sink back into her. Desperate, she leaned down and bit into the oily skin.
It screamed once as Sophie swallowed, feeling the hate and rage slide down her throat. More. She needed all of it. Running her hands over the thing, it blurred. The shape, the face, the voice, all discerning elements of a personality hazed until it constricted in on itself into a black pool, cupped in Sophie’s hands. She raised them to her lips and drank it all.
The strength of her hate coated her bones and slid into the chambers of her heart. Monster, artist. She thought. I am. She paced a circuit around and around until the sunrise. This was the day she would change things. The day would not end as it began. Morning light on her shoulders, her stride ate up the ground. Come get some.
So much of what she had been afraid of lately all fell away. She didn’t care who saw her or what they thought, or if they were in Tristan’s pocket. She marched through the suburbs, up to the mouth of the mountain and in without a word to those standing guard. She went to Tristan’s apartment. The door frame was broken. Had she done that? She must have. She pushed the door open and went inside.
She found him on the floor in the bedroom, on his hands and knees, crying softly.
“Tristan.”
He gasped and looked up at her. He was on his feet the next second, snarling at her. She pointed in his face.
“Don’t start with me!” she commanded. “I’ve taken as much physical abuse from you as I’m willing. Any more and I’ll never mate with you.”
He blinked, taken aback. Then he sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “I guess you were pretty scared when you found that girl. I should have warned you. Oh gosh, Sophie…” he reached for her hand. She gave it easily. “You’ve been through a lot. But you came back to me.”
“Yes. I was angry, but I came back.”
He frowned up at her. “Did you tell anyone about the girl? Where did you take her?”
“I told no one. I took her to the Wood, where she belongs.”
“What? You went to the Wood? How did you get past the fire?”
“I have no idea. I don’t remember much. I’d lost a lot of blood and you’d broken my face. I think I was in shock.” Her voice remained modulated as if she was discussing the weather.
He stood and cupped her cheek. “You got better very fast. You look perfect.”
“The dryads took care of me.”
He sniffed derisively and took a step back from her. “I’m surprised they didn’t kill you.”
“Some wanted to, but there was this guy. He seemed to like me. He argued I should be let go. He was very flirtatious.”
His expression was caught between fury and disgust. “Just another reason for me to kill all of them. How dare he? You’re mine. You’re a wolf.”
“Half wolf,” she amended.
“What was his name?”
She shrugged. He swore and began pacing, muttering to himself. She waited. In a minute he was back in her space grasping her by the arms.
“You forgive me? You’re still with me?”
“Yes. I love you.”
He sighed and pulled her into a hug. “Alright. Nothing has changed. Not really. Our ceremony will still be on the same day. You will not tell anyone you lost the baby. My threat to your family still stands.”
She snuggled into his arms as though she loved him and he spoke only soft words to her and not violence.
“Hello? Sophie?” her sister’s voice called from the front door of the apartment.
They both stiffened and left the bedroom. He shut and locked the door behind them. Lacey was standing on the threshold looking in.
“There you are.” Lacey smiled. “You know your door is broken?”
“Yes. We know,” Tristan said tersely. Then he shifted back into his charming self and smiled at her. “Good morning, Lacey. What are you doing here so early?”
She reached forward and took Sophie’s hand. “Mom sent me.” She bounced once on the balls of her feet grinning excitedly. “The dressmaker is coming up. You have to come so we can have our fittings. Tristan you come, too. Callen’s there already.”
“Mom wants us to come now?”
“Yes! Come on!”
Sophie gazed at Tristan, he nodded and they followed Lacey out. As they approached the double doors, Sophie’s eyes landed on Rolph, standing stoically on guard. I see you. I know what you are. The clock is ticking for you.
Jorgie ran to her as they came in and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned down and kissed the top of his head, whispering, “Remember your promise.”
His grip tightened for a second in response and he scampered away. She looked through everything she could see, calculating the possibilities. Her father wasn’t there. That nagged in the back of her mind.
Two dress forms stood in the center of the living room, the beginnings of gowns already draped on them, covered in chalk lines and pins. The dressmaker, a stern looking, middle-aged woman, ordered Lacey and Sophie to change into the new dresses so she could get started.
Even in its initial stages, Sophie’s gown was gorgeous. Gold embroidered vines and flowers cascaded from the bodice down the skirt. Standing on a platform, she closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. She wasn’t screaming inside because she knew she wouldn’t ever wear this dress once it was completed. She looked down at the dressmaker, hunched over by her feet, pinning the hem to the right length and then out over the whole room.
Lacey was next to the full mirror that had been set up, playing with how she might want her hair for the ceremony, her mom was at the kitchen table, pouring over papers, Tristan was watching Sophie closely…then she looked at Callen and her sight sharpened.
He was talking to Jorgie, trying to play with him. Trying to make him laugh, only there wasn’t anything innocent about it. He was keeping Jorgie close to him on purpose. He touched him too much. It looked casual. It wasn’t. Her stomach hardened. There. She saw it. Violence mixed with perversion deep in Callen’s gaze as he looked at Jorgie. Callen was the threat.
She exhaled, her fingers picking at the gold thread on the skirt of her dress. She pulled the color off the thread and rolled it between her thumb and fingers. Then she swallowed and stepped off the platform. The dressmaker protested, but she ignored her, moving forward. She looked at her sister.
“I’m sorry, Lacey. I have to.”
Before Lacey could ask her what she meant, Sophie caught Jorgie’s eye. Run. She mouthed the word. He obeyed instantly. She grabbed the color on her fingers with her other hand, pulling it out, stretching it into a long, sharp point. She strode up to Callen and stabbed the gold dagger through his neck.
His blood sprayed over her as he fell. Lacey screamed and ran to him. Tristan knocked her off balance from behind and then threw her to the ground. He straddled her, his hands on her throat, choking her. Gasping for air, Sophie reached up and put her thumbs on his face. He screamed and let go as she smeared his eyes like paint on a canvas.
Sabra rushed up behind him, grabbed the back of his collar, and yanked him off her daughter. He continued to scream and clawed at his face. She’d blinded him and his face now looked like abstract art. Rolph burst into the room, sword raised and came at Sabra. A knife came around Rolph’s throat from behind and slashed it open. He fell, choking to death in a pool of his own blood. Her father stood over him wiping the blood off his knife.
“Nice little bunch of traitors,” Shreve said. “I’ve been on to you for a while, Tristan.”
Tristan was subdued on his knees in front of her mom, still crying and clawing at his mangled face. “Don’t kill me! I surrender. Please! It’s not what you think! It was all Callen. Everything was his idea. I was going to come to you privately, Shreve. I swear. I was going to tell you all about his plans today. Please…Please don’t kill me. You can’t. It’s not lawful.”
Sophie got to her feet, holding her abused neck, and coughing a few times.
“Don’t listen to him,” she croaked. “He’s a monster, a rapist, and a murderer. Kill him and be done with it. Or let me.”
Tristan whimpered. “I love you, Sophie. I’ve always loved you.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry, it’s just not my flavor. It’s not you, it’s me.” Everything seemed to break loose inside her then and came pouring out in loud, maniacal laughter. “No…No, it’s you. Oh, and just so you know, I’ve been cheating on you with a dryad.”
He roared in rage and began calling her dirty names. She came forward, ready, anxious to end his wretched life. Her dad stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “He will die, but not right now. Hell, if you still want to, I’ll let you play executioner when the time comes. But he did surrender. The laws have to be followed. He’s under arrest.”
Outrage burned her face. Her dad pulled her into a tight hug. “Trust me, Sweetheart,” he whispered quietly in her ear.
Tristan’s hands were bound and Shreve personally took him to the underground. Sophie went to Lacey and pulled her away from Callen’s body. Sobbing, she clung to her sister.
“I’m sorry, Lacey,” she said again. “He was false. He was a part of a plan to kill you, Jorgie, and mom and dad. Once I knew for sure, I had to take him out.”
Time didn’t hold its usual pace as Rolph and Callen were cleaned up from the floor. The dressmaker left in a hurry swearing she would never come back. And after a while Sophie found herself sitting on the couch huddled in the middle of her mother, sister, and brother. She had Jorgie tucked into her side and she didn’t feel inclined to let him go anytime soon. Finally, the adrenaline crash came, leaving her lethargic. She told them everything, leaving out the details too adult for her brother’s ears. And finally, finally, she showed them her gift.
The art she made was a simple heart shape but it was all she had the energy for and it adequately demonstrated her ability.
They didn’t move from the couch until dinner time when her father came back.
“He’s being guarded by only those I trust. And I don’t intend to leave him there for long. I will go at different intervals through the night and make sure Tristan doesn’t go anywhere. All of us need to be on our guard right now. If more is going to happen, we need to be looking for it and for betrayal in those around us.”
“How did you know?” Sophie asked.
“Oh, being pack leader comes with regular assassination attempts, and political bullshit,” Sabra said. “Tristan was more cunning than most. We’re not sure how deep his web goes yet.”
“Go clean up, Sophie. You’re still covered in blood.”
She went to her room and slipped out of the ruined, macabre gown, placing it reverently on her bed before heading to the shower. At dinner, all of them ate as though starved, except Lacey. She picked at her food, her eyes hollow. Lacey would be alright. She was tough.
Was she really free? She’d never have to go back to the shrine. She’d never again have to hold still in the center of Tristan’s psychosis. But she didn’t feel easy. She wouldn’t until he was dead. She wanted to go to Eli. She wanted the problems and bad blood Tristan had created between the dryads and wolves to go away so they could be together and not have to hide.
She put Jorgie to bed. Taking her time, reading him a story and making all the character voices. She pulled his blanket up to his chin when his eyes finally closed. Her parents were talking quietly on the couch and she went to her room to change. She was going to the Wood.
Lacey came into her room as she slipped the bloodied gown back on.
“What are you doing?” she asked sitting on Sophie’s bed. “Why are you putting that back on?”
“It’s going to sound sick, but this blood is a gift. I want him to see it.”
“Are you really seeing a dryad?” Lacey asked.
“Yeah. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. His name is Eli.”
Some of the light came back into her sister’s eyes. She looked more like herself and she grinned a little. “What does he look like?”
“Hot. He’s strong. He has long, dirty blonde hair, black dryad eyes, oh, and a dimple in one cheek when he smiles. My head spins when he kisses me. Gravity goes all sideways when he puts his hands on me…he sees me in a way no one else ever has.”
Lacey looked down. “Wow. That sounds nice. After what you’ve been through…I’m glad you’ve got him. Even if he’s nothing but a distraction for now.”
She sat next to her and pulled her against her side. “I love you. I’m so sorry for what I had to do today. I know your heart must be broken.”
She sniffed and leaned her head on Sophie’s shoulder. “It is broken, but not like it would have been if Callen would have had his way. I can’t believe I fell for all of it. All his lies. He didn’t love me.”
“No, sweetie. He didn’t. You’ll get over him soon.”
Lacey sighed and slumped. Sophie moved and let her lay down on her bed. She kissed her cheek and tucked her in as if she was a child. She looked back at her sister, already asleep, as she turned the light out and left the room.
“I haven’t lost my mind,” she said as she faced her parents, sitting on the couch. “I have a valid reason for wearing this again…but it’s kind of personal.”
They both gazed at her with raised eyebrows.
“I’m going to see Eli. I need to be with him. I need to tell him everything that happened today.”
Shreve scowled. “Who’s Eli?”
“He’s a dryad warrior. We’ve been spending time together, secretly. I’m going to see him. I’ll be back in the morning. We need to make amends with the dryads. They need to know we aren’t their enemies.”
“That was my plan,” Sabra said. “I am going to the Wood in the morning. I hope the Heart will let me in.”
They both stood and hugged her tightly. “Helluva day,” her dad said.
“Yeah. Helluva day.” She agreed.
They released her. “Be careful, Sophie.”
“I will.”