WITH THE LACK OF A cell phone since mine disappeared the night of my attack and the desperate need to stay in communication with Rath, Ian agrees to take me into town with him and Elle. But I have to ride in the back of the van, where there are no windows, and keep out of sight. As the van bumps and jostles on the dirt road into town, I’m already dreading how hot it is going to get in here waiting while they do their shopping.
After parking at the shop, Ian turns in his seat. “Try to stay out of trouble.”
“I’ll do my best,” I say, giving him a condescending smile.
“We’ll try to hurry,” Elle says, looking at least sorry that I’m having to wait here.
I wave goodbye to her as they climb out. I wonder how much she knows about what’s going on with me. Because Ian has never told her anything with me around. But it sounds like she’s well informed about her brother’s world. I guess it is her world, too, since she lives in this town.
I sit so I can see out the front window, but am still blocked by the seats. I watch the townspeople as they mill about. It’s a beautiful town, old but clean. There’s a lot of history here. Centuries of families living and dying and being born. Paladon, Colorado never felt like this. Some towns have a soul, even if they’re dark. Silent Bend has an old soul.
It’s bright outside and probably pushing ninety degrees with eighty percent humidity. It’s going to take a while to get used to.
I hate this. I hate hiding, feeling like I’m prey and the predator is going to pounce regardless of how prepared I feel. Ian is well trained and looks prepared, but there’s an entire House of vampires that want me. And here I am, practically just waiting for it.
Such bullshit.
The heat is already stifling and I feel a bead of sweat rolling down my back. Heat pools between my breasts. I fan my shirt around me.
Such a stupid idea. I should have just stayed back at the cabin. Like a good little prisoner.
I look back up out the window just in time to see a woman pulling on her giant dog, which is leaping and jumping at something I can’t see. The woman gives one little shriek before the dog pulls her awkwardly off the curb and she goes down on her ankle. Hard.
I don’t think. I just spring from the van, slamming the door closed behind me. There’s no one else close by and the woman is laying awkwardly half on the curb, half on the street as her dog worriedly licks at her.
“Are you okay?” I say as I reach down for her. She grabs my hands, her own shaking. Carefully, I help her to her feet, but she doesn’t put any weight on the twisted ankle.
“Stupid dog,” she says with a honey smooth Southern accent. “Don’t know what he thought he was going to chase after.”
It’s no surprise he pulled her right over. He’s the biggest black Great Dane I’ve ever seen. I’m pretty certain he could eat me if I got on his bad side.
“Come here,” I say, wrapping an arm under hers. “Let’s get you to that bench.”
“Thank you,” she says, limping alongside me. It takes us about thirty seconds to make it the fifteen feet to the bench, and she collapses onto it as the dog licks her hand.
“I’d offer you a ride to the clinic, but I don’t have a car,” I offer as I sit next to her. Everything in me is itching to get back in the van and hide. And I absolutely hate that.
“Oh,” she laughs at herself. “I’ll be alright. Just need to give it a minute.” She looks at me and offers the warmest smile.
She’s a gorgeous woman. Honey brown skin. Highlighted hair that’s woven into perfect soft curls. Curves all over the place. She looks like she’s probably in her mid-thirties. She adjusts her sunglasses, which were knocked askew during her fall.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I say with a smile. “You went down pretty hard.”
The dog shifts over to me and nudges my hand.
“Sorry,” she says. “He’s an attention hog. He just wants you to pet him. He really is a gentle giant. Don’t know what he was doing before.”
I reach out and pet him hesitantly. I love dogs, but this one is intimidating. “What’s his name?”
“Teddy,” she laughs. “He was the runt of the litter when I got him and he reminded me of a short haired teddy bear. It just kind of stuck.”
“Cute,” I say, and it’s kind of true.
“You must be new in town,” she says, studying me with the tilt of her head. “I don’t recognize you, and I know pretty much everyone in Silent Bend.”
“Oh,” I say. My heart has suddenly taken up residence in my throat. “I’m just visiting.”
“I see,” she says with a knowing smile. “You must be Elsa’s cousin. She said you were coming.”
“Yep,” I lie, interlacing my fingers between my knees uncomfortably. “Elsa’s cousin.”
“That Elsa is a sweet girl,” she says, crossing her legs and looking out over the quiet street. A man on the sidewalk on the other side of the road glances in our direction and then does a double take. His pace quickens.
“Uh huh,” I say. My instincts kick in and I’m fighting the urge to run. I should have grabbed a stake from the van. But I’m an idiot, and I’ve got nothing.
“You know, in a small town like this,” she continues. “You have to be careful. Everyone is always up in everyone’s business and they all think they know you without knowing you. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I think so.” My breathing has picked up and my eyes are searching the shops around us. Which one did Ian say he was going into? Can he see me right now? I’m sure not, otherwise he’d probably be flying through the streets, stake in hand, no matter who witnessed.
“Cause you know, there’s two sides to every story. Have you heard the story about the Hanging Tree?” She looks down the street to the dead tree at the end of the road. And then she looks back at me, except I can’t see her eyes through the glasses.
“No, not really,” I manage to get out.
“About two hundred years ago, this town was dying. There were only a few hundred people here, trying to make a living off the river shrimp. But the bugs, the swamps, and the lack of money kept people away. People weren’t surviving. Things were looking bad, and people started moving away from Silent Bend. Then two brothers came to town, bringing with them all kinds of money. They started two plantations. Created jobs. Started pushing that money back into the community. The town and the people flourished, thanks to these brothers.” The dog finally sits next to the woman, staring vigilant out at the passers by.
“But something strange and unexplainable happened. Something out of the brothers’ control. To the town there was only one explanation. The brothers. So they came after one of them. Attacked him and killed him. Tied him up, gagged his dead body. They dragged him to that tree. And they hanged him up with three of his closest friends.”
I swallow hard, looking out into the street, but not seeing any of it.
“They tried to burn the other brother alive in his home. These two brothers, whose houses had done nothing but save this town, were rewarded with death and destruction.
“So you see, you can not always believe everything you hear,” she says, looking back at me. I’m at once terrified of her and wildly curious to learn more. “Especially in sleepy little towns like this one.”
Suddenly she stands, and there’s not a single hint of the injury she sustained earlier. No limp, no favoring. She stands tall and sure.
“It was nice to meet you, Alivia Ryan,” she says with a little smile. Teddy shifts around, ready to leave. “If you ever want to hear more sides to more stories…”
She drops something on the bench. I look down at it and back up, only to find her nowhere to be seen.
On the bench, right next to me, are two envelopes. I pick them up. One is simple and on the front it reads For when you have the time to learn some more family history. It’s thick, like there are several pages inside. I set it in my lap and turn to the other envelope. The paper is expensive, with a slight shimmer to its linen color. My name is written on the front in beautiful handwriting. I turn it and confirmation freezes in my veins.
From Jasmine Veltora and the House of Silent Bend.
I’d seen sitting with the stand-in House queen.
But she hadn’t attacked. She hadn’t tried to drag me off. Hadn’t done anything.
There are two sides to every story.
I slide my finger along the wax seal, popping it. From the envelope, I pull a thick piece of paper.
You have been cordially invited to the House’s annual Summer Founders Ball. Black-tie attire required. Saturday, August 29th, 9:00 PM. Town hall.
There are two sides to every story. And suddenly I’m dying to know them both.