A Shade of Vampire 10: A Spell of Time (10 page)

M
icah was keen
to see me most days after school. It seemed that he didn’t have much of an agenda of his own. While I gave Griff first priority on my time, since he had more homework than me to complete that week, I ended up seeing more of Micah than I’d expected.

I agreed to meet Micah at the bottom of our tree. I’d recommended this rather than the penthouse since he hadn’t exactly made a great first impression on my father, although my mother didn’t seem to have any objection to him.

One evening, we ended up walking by the lake—somewhere I hadn’t been with him before.

I still didn’t feel I knew much about this werewolf, and I wasn’t sure why he was interested in me so much. I also wasn’t sure why I’d agreed to spend so much time with him. Caleb still being very much on my mind, I began to wonder if I was just using Micah as a distraction. As some kind of rebound. Still, he was a good distraction. When I was in his company, it was easy to get lost in conversation. There were still so many things about him and the supernatural world I wanted to know.

As we approached the boathouse, I stopped in my tracks. I gripped Micah’s arm, pulling him back. He looked at me questioningly.

“Wait,” I breathed.

I crouched down in the bushes, pulling Micah down with me. I stared through the leaves, barely able to believe my eyes.

Our headmistress, Adelle. She was making out with… Eli?

All the other girls in my class were convinced that Eli would never get himself a girl—after all, he’d been a bachelor for several hundred years already. Now, watching him locking lips my teacher, it was shocking. It took me a few moments to pick up my jaw from the ground.

I dared not whisper in case they heard. I pointed and we began retreating. There was a snap. Micah had just trodden on a branch. My eyes shot toward the boathouse. It was too late. They’d spotted us.

Adelle looked mortified as she disentangled herself from Eli. I wasn’t sure why Adelle would look so guilty. It was embarrassing, yes, but it wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong.

“Hello, Rose.” Her cheeks were almost as bright as her hair.

“Hi, Ms. Ardene,” I said.

She smiled awkwardly, then, wiping her lips with the back of her hand—smudging her lipstick even more—she gripped Eli’s hand and they walked away into the woods.

“We may as well go sit there now,” I said, once they were out of sight.

I leaned against the windowsill, staring down at the blue water lilies beneath us. We both stood in silence. I glanced up at Micah. For a change, he wasn’t looking at me. He too was staring into the water.

“Do you have family?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Not anymore.”

“What happened?”

He took a deep breath and paused, running his tongue over his lower lip.

“I left them in my realm when I was banished. I haven’t seen them since.”

“You were banished?”

“Yes. Most of us in Matteo’s crew are outcasts.”

“I see. Do werewolves live forever?”

“No. We live a long time, often as long as witches. But not forever.”

“Why exactly did they ask you to leave?”

He swallowed hard and shifted his feet on the floorboards. “I was in love with a girl I had no business being in love with.”

Huh.
I remained silent, not daring to urge him to continue even though I was burning with curiosity. As it turned out I didn’t need to.

“And she was in love with me. Or so she said. But she was the daughter of our chieftain. She already had a betrothed…”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“I had to either leave, or be executed. I still remember the night they caught us. The fear in my family’s eyes. I didn’t have time to pack anything. I just had to sail away in a boat. Leave and never return. I had no idea how I’d survive. I’d never been outside my own realm before. By some mercy, I came across Matteo and his crew. They gave me a cabin in their ship. The rest is history. They’re my family… and now, the people here in The Shade.” His eyes roamed me again.

“Do you think you’ll ever see your family again?”

“No.”

“But you came to Earth via the werewolf realm, right?”

“Yes. But if anyone had caught me there, I wouldn’t have gotten out alive. Mona put an invisibility covering over all of us as we made our way to the hidden gate.” He shook his head again, as if clearing his thoughts. “Anyway, she… they… are all gone now. I won’t ever be going back there. It’s my past.”

Silence fell between us again.

“I know what it’s like to love someone you can’t be with,” I said. I didn’t understand why I would tell Micah this, when I hadn’t even told my own brother.

He turned to look at me, an eyebrow raised. Coaxing me to continue.

I didn’t feel comfortable speaking Caleb’s name out loud somehow. It just didn’t feel right. So I just said, “We fell out over a… misunderstanding. To be honest, I’d rather not talk about him either.”

“That’s okay,” Micah said, holding my hand. “I understand.”

I gave him a faint smile.

We left the boathouse and walked around the lake a bit more before heading home. It was getting late now, and to avoid another grounding, Micah carried me on his back the rest of the way home.

He stopped at the foot of my tree at my request. I checked my watch. I had ten minutes to get my butt upstairs. I looked up at Micah. We hadn’t spoken much since our conversation in the boathouse. I found the look in his eyes unsettling. He looked… restless somehow. As though there was something he was hiding, something he was bottling up.

“Well, good night,” I said and turned to leave.

Strong hands gripped my shoulders and turned me around.

Before I could make sense of what was happening, Micah gripped my jaw and drew me closer. His lips pressed against my cheek, the tip of his hot, rough tongue brushing against my skin.

I staggered back, reaching up to where his mouth had been. His hazel-brown eyes looked fierce.

“Good night,” he growled.

He spun around and sprinted away. I stared after him. His limbs began transforming and he hit the ground on all fours as he pounded away into the distance.

That boy is wild.

I
wasn’t
sure what to make of Micah’s kiss. A part of me felt deeply uncomfortable about it. I was glad that we were having tests that week. I could bury myself in study and avoid thinking about both Caleb and the werewolf.

In my free time, I found myself going on longer walks by myself, deliberately avoiding the parts of the beaches where the werewolves tended to gather. As I walked along the beach one evening, on my way back home, I heard a gruff voice behind me.

“Hello.”

I whirled around to see the ogre.

“Oh, hello, Brett.”

This was the first time I’d really spoken to him since I’d met him the day they arrived on the island.

He stood at the entrance of a large cave. I’d forgotten that he lived on this side of the island.

“You wanna come in?” His meaty hand beckoned me over.

As much as I’d been assured by everyone that he wasn’t dangerous, my heartbeat doubled as I walked toward him over the boulders, slowly and cautiously. His appearance was so imposing, I couldn’t help but feel nervous.

He was grinning from ear to ear as I stepped into the cave, looking down at me with sheer delight.

He lumbered further into his home, leading me forward. I glanced around. There was a mound of straw in one corner with a heap of dirty clothes at the end of it. And in the center of the cave was an axe, a saw, small carving tools, a log of wood and half of a chair.

Brett looked at me sheepishly. “Sorry there’s nothin’ for a princess to sit on yet,” he mumbled. “I need to work faster. I don’t get many folks visiting me, you see.”

I took a seat on his straw while he sat on the floor opposite me.

I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact I was sitting next to an ogre. I hadn’t even known such things existed until recently. I remembered my father reading stories involving ogres to Ben and me when we were younger, but I’d thought they were nothing more than that—stories. Then again, it wouldn’t take much getting used to, having grown up with vampires as parents.

I looked at his work in progress on the floor, admiring his handiwork.

“That’s looking pretty,” I said. “How long will it take you to complete it?”

He shrugged. “Going slower than I’m used to. I don’t have as good tools as I did back home. I had to leave them all,” he said, wiping his runny nose with the back of his hand.

“I’m sure we have extra chairs if you need any. The witches are good with that sort of thing. And what about getting you a more comfortable bed? This straw seems spiky to sleep on.”

“I like creating my own stuff. And I like straw too. It’s good for itches. You should try it sometime.”

“Hm, maybe I will.”

I stood up and crouched down closer over his half finished chair. I was impressed by how delicately designed it was—there were beautiful etchings in the wood around the seat. I wondered how long he had been laboring over it.

“So this is what you do with your time?” I asked. “You create beautiful things.”

He cast another wistful glance at his half-finished chair and sighed. “Yeah, well, it was my job before. When we were back on our own island. Captain Matteo gave me the job of creating things. ’Cos I don’t like to fight.”

“Fight?”

He eyed me. “Yeah. Like when nasty people tried to enter our island. I don’t like it.”

“Oh, okay. I understand.” I reached out and patted his leathery forearm. “I don’t like fighting either.”

A pang of sadness hit me as I looked once more around his damp empty cave. It occurred to me how lonely this creature must get, being the only one of his kind on the island.

“Have you always lived alone?”

He looked taken aback by my question, as though the answer should be obvious. “Yes.” Then he chortled and shook his head. “There isn’t anyone who’d want to share my cave with me.”

I paused, looking into his face. It was innocent, good-natured. Much like a child.

“We need to find you a pretty girl ogre to keep you company, Brett.”

He blushed. He actually looked sweet—a word I’d never thought I’d use to describe an ogre.

“Agh,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Girls are trouble…”

I giggled. “But have you ever had a girlfriend?”

“G-girl…” He paused, frowning. “Saira is a girl friend.”

“No. By girlfriend, I mean like a lover. A girl you’re in love with.”

He furrowed his brows as though deep in thought. “No. I have never had that.”

“Then how do you know girls are trouble?”

He looked away from me, as though hoping that avoiding my eye contact would also avoid the subject. His expression was not unlike a four-year-old trying to hide from an uncomfortable question.

“Well?”

“Fights always start when they’re around.”

“That doesn’t have to happen. There are lots of couples who don’t fight.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t know about girl ogres. They’re mean.”

There wasn’t much I could say to counter that argument. Brett was the only ogre I’d come across, and from what I’d learned about ogres so far, Brett was an anomaly. Most ogres were cruel-hearted beasts, and that was why Brett was an outcast. He didn’t like violence.

“Sometimes,” he continued, “it’s better to be alone. There’s no fighting. It’s peaceful. No troubles.”

I bit my lip, looking out at Brett’s view of the sea. We were both quiet for a few minutes, listening to the waves crashing against the shore.

“You have a boy-lover, don’t ya?” Brett blurted.

I frowned and shook my head.

A grin spilt his face and his eyes narrowed on me. “Yeah, you do. Don’t think I haven’t seen you with that Micah boy.”

“Oh,” I said. Now it was my turn to blush. “Micah is just a friend. I barely even know him.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He thinks you’re his girl-lover.”

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh at Brett’s turn of phrase or be mortified that even an ogre had picked up on this. My expression was likely somewhere in between.

“Well, what do you think of Micah?” I said, eyeing him with amusement. “Do you think he would make a good ‘boy-lover’?”

Brett paused and furrowed his brows, clearly taking my question as no light matter.

“Yeah, I think he’s a good fella.”

“Anything else you can tell me about him?”

Brett thought for a moment longer. “He’s a good fish-catcher… though he doesn’t roast them as well.”

“Uh-huh.” It was clear that this was all the insight Brett was planning to offer. “Well, thanks for that, Brett. I’ll bear it in mind. Because roasting is important.”

“Yes.”

“I should probably be getting home now.”

“Oh, princess. You could stay for dinner if you wanted.”

“I would love to, Brett. I truly would. But my parents want me home early.”

He looked mildly disappointed, but was probably expecting that answer. I doubted there were many on this island who spent dinner alone with Brett, unless they couldn’t be bothered to cook.

“Well, thanks for visiting, Princess Rose.”

“I promise I’ll visit you again soon,” I said as I left the cave, and I meant it.

“I’d like that. I will try to have the chair finished in time for you. Can’t have the princess sitting on my straw again,” he mumbled.

“I’ll bring my brother Ben with me too, if you don’t mind. And we don’t mind sitting on the straw.”

He positively beamed at the thought of two visitors.

We said goodbye and I climbed down from the cave across the boulders and back onto the sandy beach. I didn’t know how it would ever happen, but I was determined to make it my personal mission to one day find a companion for Brett.

I
sat
in my bedroom the following evening, waiting for Annora to knock. It turned out I was right in assuming that her nightly visits would resume now that I’d had some respite.

She arrived at the stroke of midnight, in her usual black silk coverall and lingerie.

I stood up and as she approached me, I gripped her arms and sat her on the bed while I towered over her, looking deep into her steely gray eyes.

“What?”

“I’ve put it off long enough.”

She frowned at me. “Put what off?”

“I want to become a warlock.”

She blinked, her lower lip twitching.

“Warlock?” she breathed.

“Not just any warlock. I want to become a Channeler of the Ancients’ power.”

“Y-you’re serious?”

I nodded slowly, studying every flicker of emotion that crossed her face. What I saw confused me. She looked shocked at first. That I could understand. But now she looked disturbed. Worried. Desperate even.

Her hands began to tremble and she stood up, gripping my forearms.

“Why? Why don’t you want to remain as you are?”

“For the same reason as you. Power. Influence. Surrender to our cause.”

She began shaking her head.

“No.” Her voice cracked. “No, Caleb. I-I…” She clasped a palm over her mouth. She sank back down on the bed, her chest heaving. “Caleb, no.”

I didn’t know what game Annora was playing by refusing something she herself had coaxed me to do for so long. I bent down to her level, gripping her jaw and forcing her to look directly into my eyes.

“Why?” I repeated, my mouth inches from hers.

She flinched and closed her eyes, shaking her head.

Ignoring her discomfort, I continued to press.

“Who do I need to see about this? Who turned you into a Channeler?”

“But Caleb—”

“Just answer my question.”

“H-her name is Lilith.”

“Lilith. Who is this Lilith? Where do I find her?”

“I-I can’t tell you.”

I tightened my grip on her jaw. “What do you mean you can’t tell me?”

Tears spilled from her eyes. She fought free from my grip and hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

I stared after her, stunned, listening to the sounds of her footsteps disappearing down the corridor outside.

I’d never seen Annora crumble like that. And the way she’d just left… as though she’d completely forgotten what she’d come for.

I left the apartment and considered following her, but decided against it. At least for this evening. Instead, I went downstairs to the kitchen, intending to pour myself a glass of blood. I exhaled in frustration on finding all the jugs empty in the cellar. Topping up the jugs had been Frieda’s job. I guessed it was my fault I hadn’t yet appointed another vampire to do the job. I’d have to do it myself tonight.

I left the jug on the kitchen counter and entered the dungeon in the corner of the room. Gasps and cries echoed around me as I descended into the dark prison.

I looked around the cells, trying to decide which human looked most likely to quench my thirst that evening. I settled on the plumpest, a young boy. Opening his cell, I pulled him out and handcuffed him. I was about to exit the dungeon with him when I noticed a strange scent. Not human. Not vampire. Not witch. It was quite unlike anything I’d smelt before. Chaining the boy to the wall so he wouldn’t cause trouble, I walked toward the scent.

I stopped outside a cell containing a wolf. A giant wolf. Slumped in the corner, it raised its head as I approached the bars.

“Werewolf?”

It looked up at me with brown eyes.

“What does it look like?” it said hoarsely.

Since when are we keeping werewolves in our dungeons?
New blood rituals, perhaps.

“Who brought you here?”

Leaning against the wall, the wolf struggled to stand up. I could see now that he was male. His two hind legs were severely disjointed and soaked with blood.

“And what’s it to you?” he growled. “You going to help me escape?”

“Just answer my question.”

He scowled, his eyes darkening. “Some black-eyed warlock caught me while I was out fishing. He didn’t tell me his name.”

“What’s your name?”

“Micah Kaelin.”