Asanni (31 page)

“But he looks older than a werewolf should. I
was sure he was in his mid-forties.”

“It’s a disguise. He’s about thirty. He’s
been here for more than ten years. If he wanted to stay, he had to
make himself look older.”

“Now that I think about it, his hands did
look younger than the rest of him. He has the ability to change his
look, right? You mentioned once some werewolves can do that.”

Jack nodded. “A useful skill, particularly
when you live among humans, like he does. He can change everything
except his hands.”

“Does Ahmed know about me?” Astrid said.

“Uh-huh. He can smell you, remember? And
then, you used to disappear on a regular basis, every full
moon.”

The story about the secret life of her
favorite anesthesiologist distracted Astrid from her melancholy
thoughts. “I hope he’ll come,” she said.

“Maybe not tomorrow, but eventually, I’m sure
he will.”

JACK’S BENTLEY was sandwiched between the
Blakes’ Mercedes in front and Sid Brandon’s Jeep Grand Cherokee
behind. Mark was driving Astrid’s Honda at the back of the small
convoy.

Jack was holding Astrid’s hand, bringing it
every once in a while up to his lips. They chatted and laughed, yet
both were tense. “A month or two, love,” he said quietly. “Ellida
Morgaine is coming by the end of the week. She’ll keep you
busy.”

“Where am I going to live?”

“It’s up to you. I’m sure James will try to
convince you stay with them, at least at the beginning, but you
have your house.”

“Where are you going to be?” Astrid said. “Am
I going to see you at all?”

Jack smiled and stroked her face with his
knuckles. “I’ll be at home as much as possible, and I’ll try to be
there for your next change. I don’t want anybody else around
you.”

“Jack,” she said, leaning her head against
Jack’s shoulder, “when everything’s over, can we please date first?
You know, to go to a restaurant, or a movie theater. You come and
pick me up, and then drive me home, and kiss me at my door, hoping
that I will ask you to come in for a cup of coffee. That sort of a
date.”

“Will you ask me to come in?” Jack laughed
and stole another kiss.

“Probably not on our first date. I should
keep you intrigued, otherwise you could lose interest.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s gonna happen... Astrid, you
have to help me renovate my house. I want it ready for you. You’ll
tell me how you would like it. I know you want an aquamarine
bathroom, but you should tell me about the kitchen, living room,
bedroom.”

Astrid’s fingers gently stroked the nape of
his neck. “Oh, I’m sure whatever you already have in your bedroom
will be fine.” Her voice was a soft, promising purr.

“I was thinking about a color scheme, not the
bed, Miss Mohegan. Oh, I’ll miss having you around, you kinky
beast. These ten days with you were the best time of my life.”

WITH THE Blakes leading the way, they made
the 350-mile trip to Seattle in record time. It was raining cats
and dogs, and Astrid realized how much she’d missed rainfall.

Ella and Arnaldur’s family house was outside
the city, nestled in the middle of a 10-acre private park, and was
hidden from the road and unwanted curiosity behind chestnut and oak
trees. Built around 1890 in the Tudor Revival style, with heavy
chimneys and dark decorative timbering, the sturdy, off-white house
was a luxurious eight-bedroom dwelling. The central part and two
wings had steeply pitched roofs, prominent cross-gables and plenty
of tall and narrow windows. Astrid’s quarters were on the west
side.

They all stood in the front of the house,
rain notwithstanding: Ella and Arnaldur, James and Betty. With a
squeak of joy, Astrid jumped out of the car, ran toward her
grandparents and threw herself into Arnaldur’s outstretched
arms.

Having such an emotional creature for a
granddaughter had long ago taught Ella and Arnaldur to respond with
similar affection. So long ago that it had become their natural
reaction. Arnaldur hugged Astrid tight, kissing her forehead.

“Oh, Astrid, are you all right? Let me see
you! We heard what happened!”

Then her grandmother embraced her, looking
deep into her eyes. “I’m so relieved you are fine, Astrid. You are
okay, everything’s fine, isn’t it?”

“Everything’s okay, Ella. Oh, I missed you so
much!”

Astrid kissed her grandmother and then turned
to the couple beside. “Hello, Uncle and Aunt,” she said, smiling
shyly, and took a small step forward.

The next moment she found herself in another
strong and tight embrace. She could hear her Uncle’s frantic
heartbeats.

“Astrid, my child,” he whispered, his voice
thick with emotion. “My dear child...”

When James eventually released her, Astrid
greeted her aunt.

Elizabeth Mohegan smiled and hugged her too,
kissing both her cheeks. “I’m happy to meet you, Astrid,” she said
in her pleasant, soft voice that reminded Astrid of Jack’s. And not
only the voice. The soft, amber eyes that looked at Astrid were so
like her son’s. They had the same light brown hair, similar facial
features—Betty’s were soft and feminine, as much as Jack’s were
sharp and masculine.

The others waited patiently for their chance
to exchange greetings, before the whole group—by that time
thoroughly soaked with rain—moved into the house.

Inside, the house revealed a functional,
informal and comfortable space. The heavy wooden interior of the
original Tudor house had been reduced to a massive staircase and
parquet floor.

Instead of paneling, the walls were painted
in warm, deep coral pink, complementing the dark wood of the window
frames and doors. The shiny mahogany furniture was light and
elegant, and the thick Oriental carpets were in rich colors.
Delicate white lace curtains allowed the outside light to pour
inside in abundance. Several well-chosen watercolor paintings
complimented the lightness of the interior.

THE BRANDON brothers had decided to drive
back to Red Cliffs the same day, and after lunch they took off in
Jack’s car.

“I’m having second thoughts about leaving my
car here,” Astrid said later as she parked her beloved cobalt-blue
Accord in the garage. “It’s a perfectly good car, it’s served me
well, and I could use it in Red Cliffs.”

“And it complements the color of your eyes,
that’s why you bought it in the first place,” Jack said, laughing.
“How many miles did you make in the last year?”

“Close to three hundred. Well, I like
walking.”

“I’ll buy you a new car when we come back
home. Something more compatible with your personality.”

“Really?” Astrid clasped her hands and smiled
happily. “I’m curious to see what you’ll choose.”

“You’ll see.”

Astrid smiled. Two weeks ago, it would have
been impossible for her to accept a car as a present from anyone.
Today it made her happy.

MY UNCLE completely monopolized my attention,
but he was so visibly happy that I didn’t have the heart to deny
him that pleasure. He’d been waiting for years to meet me, and he
wasn’t shy about showing me his affection. He couldn’t take his
eyes off me, he held my hand, he smiled, gently, fondly, studying
my eyes and my face.

“You look so much like your father, Astrid,”
he said in a thick voice, and I suddenly realized that James had
never completely gotten over his brother’s death. Perhaps now, when
he knew that a part of Hal, alive and solid, was going to stay
close to him, he could finally let his sorrow go.

JAMES MOHEGAN was a good-looking man. He had
short, dark hair, peppered with grey here and there. His eyes were
moss-green and his face bold and big-featured, with a prominent
nose, high cheekbones, firm lips and energetic chin. Almost as tall
as Jack, his frame was more brawny and robust: strong head,
powerful neck and shoulders and muscular arms and legs. The few
extra pounds he carried didn’t make him even a bit less attractive;
oddly enough, they only seemed to add to his manliness. His
dominance was so evident that it was almost palpable, and he wore
it as naturally as his skin. It was everywhere: in his impressive
physique, his voice, his movements, his posture. It was simply
him
. It suited him so well that I wondered if he was indeed
ready to give up his position and power.

I moved my eyes to Jack. Equally
indisputable, although not so obviously displayed, Jack’s authority
was of a different kind. James was like a thunderstorm; Jack was
like the steady yet unstoppable force of a mighty river.

James looked as if he was in his late
thirties, except for the moments when his eyes softened, which
happened every time he looked at me. Then he seemed young, even
younger than Jack. He asked me question after question: about my
life in Rosenthal, my job, going back further and further into the
past. He inquired about my studies, the years I spent in Europe, my
wizard powers, then came back to the last change I went through and
the attack that followed. And then the whole cycle would start
again. All the time, he was careful not to mention my mother or the
events after she’d left my father.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Jack
talking to his mother, and the Blakes engaged in a lively
conversation with my grandparents. Jack threw occasional glances in
my direction, but didn’t join us.

“Your house is ready, sweetie, but Betty and
I hope you’ll stay with us,” my uncle said.

“I would like that. We’ll have more time to
get to know each other,” I said and smiled. I didn’t like the
prospect of being alone in a big, unknown place full of memories
that were not even mine. Jack wouldn’t be around much anyway, and
even if he was, he wouldn’t stay with me in my house or I in
his.

During dinner, I was seated between Arnaldur
and Uncle James. Jack sat on the opposite side. I longed to touch
him, just briefly, to feel the warm tide of our connection. Since
we’d arrived, we’d been separated, and my mind and body silently
protested.

“Morgaine’s son is coming to train you in
martial arts,” my uncle said casually. “It was Jack’s idea to train
you in human fighting techniques.”

Jack arched his eyebrows. “My idea was about
me training Astrid,” he said sharply. “And then somebody upgraded
it with young Nakamura.”

“Arnaldur actually suggested it,” Betty
Mohegan said in a stern voice. “It’s a good solution, Jack.”

My uncle looked at Jack. “For the next few
months you won’t be around enough to train Astrid, you know that,
son.”

“For the next two months, James,” Jack said.
“That’s all you get. And then Astrid’s moving in with me. Astrid.”
He turned to me. “Takeshi Nakamura is a
bujutsu
master. I
assume he’ll teach you various combat techniques.”

“I didn’t know Ellida Morgaine had a son,” I
said.

“His father’s a werewolf, Hayato Nakamura,”
Jack said.

“Morgaine will complete your wizard
training,” my grandfather said, “and teach you things that you can
only learn from another Ellida. I’m sorry, Astrid, that we didn’t
teach you more.”

“Oh, grandpa, don’t be silly,” I said. “You
did what you thought was best for me. I never wanted to know more
until recently, and only because it became necessary. I always
wanted to have an ordinary life. Now I’ll learn whatever I need
to.” I smiled. “Besides, you who taught me the Fire Spell, and I’m
so grateful for that particular skill.”

“So am I, Astrid. So am I.”

Ella gave her husband a sharp look. “I was
wondering how she knew it! So it was you, Arnie. Well, I suppose
I’m glad you did teach her. What else did you teach her that I
don’t know?”

My grandpa winked at me. “This and that,
nothing she didn’t need, right, Astrid?”

“I’ve asked Arnaldur to work with you on your
metal skills,” James said. “What do you say about that,
sweetie?”

“But that’s wonderful! You two are coming
with me to Red Cliffs?! Why didn’t you say anything? Oh, I can’t
believe it!”

My grandma squeezed my hand. “Not right away,
darling. Later, in summer.”

“Oh. All right, then,” I said, happy and
disappointed at the same time.

Ella leaned over to Tristan. “How much longer
are you going to stay in Rosenthal, now that Astrid’s gone?”

“When I delivered that short farewell speech
at the hospital, I also wanted to mention that I’ve accepted
another position,” Tristan said. “But I didn’t have the heart to do
it. Everybody was so upset by Astrid’s leaving. The staff adored
her, you know. I’ll tell them in a week or two.”

“Who would’ve guessed I’d miss Rosenthal?”
Liv said. “It didn’t look like much when we arrived there a year
ago, but all in all, we had a good time, right Astrid?”

“I had a meltdown of epic proportions today
when we left town. I cried my eyes out,” I said. “I liked my job.”
I paused, looked at Jack and continued, “And the fact that I really
didn’t need a car. I liked my little house, my patients. Mrs.
Fontaine, for example, whose husband was a former Rosenthal mayor.
She used all her influence to get invited to the farewell party,
which didn’t include my former patients, prominent citizens or
not.”

Jack laughed. “She pulled me aside and told
me I almost came too late to Rosenthal because she was determined
to match Astrid with her grandson,” he said. “‘If I’d just had one
more month,’ she said to me, ‘you would’ve left Rosenthal
empty-handed, young man.’”

“Oh, I know all about her grandson. She even
showed me his photos. He’s in Singapore, he is a manager of a bank
there, and hasn’t come home for almost two years, she said. I think
her idea was to use me as a decoy to drag him back. She raised him,
you know. And then there’s Sheriff McLaren. His wife Molly is my
favorite nurse. His sister Gellie is a paramedic and she’s in love
with Molly’s brother Sam Spencer, the Deputy Sheriff; Sam’s little
boy, Jake; Mr. Hoffmann, who liked to play chess with me in the
common room while he was recovering. His daughter gave me a huge
discount on car insurance.”