Forged by Greed (44 page)

“Oh, yes.” Erik’s mother nodded. “Just let your parents know where
you are, Penelope, so they are not worried.”

Georgeta smirked. “Not worried? We are wolves. I’m sure they will
freak out. No offense, Pen.”

Penelope rolled her eyes. Georgeta sat close to her on the sofa and
gave her a hug. “You can sleep in my room. I have a bunk bed.” She laughed.

“I will paint your toes if you paint mine,” Penelope smiled weakly.

“Aw, cozy.” Jatred crossed his arms over his chest and leaned
against the wall with his shoulder, his ankles crossed.

“Shut up.” Georgeta shrugged. “Go annoy someone else for a change.”

“Okay, we should run back home,” Erik’s father suggested. He stood
up and touched his wife’s shoulder. “Even if anything else happens, it’s just
two blocks away. We will be fine. Just drenched, I’m afraid.”

CHAPTER 50

Human World, November 18, evening.

Jatred rose from the sofa with the uncanny grace of a wild animal.
He was looking in disbelief at the screen of his cell phone, displaying the
caller’s photo. And the music—different from his regular ring—was assigned to
this caller. His mind was racing,
I must
have done it. I must have selected a different ringtone for her, different from
anyone else’s number. And how would I have her photo here if we weren’t… Just more
proof that she was…

The picture on the small screen belonged to a happy-looking Jasmira.
She was captured during one of those belly-laughs, her head thrown back, long
wavy hair loosely held up by a large hair-clip.

Jatred slid his thumb across the screen to answer the call. He
pressed the phone to his ear but didn’t say anything.

“J?” Jasmira’s voice quivered.

He stood transfixed, his heart pounding.
The bond. It was with her.
We
still have it.

“We need to talk. J? Please don’t hang up. Listen, I… at the
hospital today…” She sighed and continued in a stronger voice, “I didn’t want
to believe that you really couldn’t remember me. But this whole thing is bigger
than us. Ask anyone, they will tell you, and maybe then you will remember.”

“They
keep
telling me
that;
everyone
does. I don’t even
need to ask.” He talked just above whisper, his eyes closed. “I can’t remember
anything about you. About us. But I just realized we have a bond.”

“J! We do. It’s not as strong as before, but we have it. Okay, try
to use it to recall something. Anything. At the hospital you remembered the
ducks, right?”

“Yeah. And the shirt. That yellow one you wore today.”

“I thought about this and I know it was a real memory, not just a
trick of your mind. It was like this: Crystal made you break up with me.
Actually, she tried a few times, but you wouldn’t listen. Then she threatened
to hurt your uncle. You took me to Arboretum. It was at the beginning of
September. We sat in the Japanese garden by the water, and there were those
little ducks. I had my yellow t-shirt on, the same as today. That’s what you
remembered. You see?”

Silence between them spread in a lengthy wave. Jatred gnawed on his
upper lip, his brows knitted together. He narrowed his eyes, thinking,
concentrating. Finally, he exhaled loudly, deflating his cheeks, and said, “Nothing.
That’s all I’ve got. The yellow tee and the ducks.”

“Give it some time. Maybe it’s like when a person gets amnesia after
an accident. They don’t remember much at first, but then slowly things start
coming back.” Jasmira sounded hopeful, desperate even.
 

Jatred squeezed his eyes, and then shook his head. “I don’t know.
This pisses me off. I can’t remember a thing about you.”

“At least now you sound as you believe that I
was
in your life,” she said quietly.

There was more silence.

Finally Jasmira said, “That day at the Arboretum, you said that you
will always remember everything. That I am the best thing that has ever
happened to you.” Her voice caught with a sharp intake of breath.

Jatred’s throat constricted and he felt his heart skip a beat. His
mind did a weird flip, allowing for an invasion of another vision—a huge
antique chandelier that hung from the ceiling right by the main door of his
school. The earth-mimicking sphere rotated slowly between sweeping, rounded
arms which ended in elongated candle-shaped electric lights. Jatred smiled at
his thoughts. This was his favorite place in school. During the winter months, when
the days were short, the sphere would light up with the first sign of dusk.

In his vision he almost felt a slender, dark-skinned arm of a girl, encircling
his torso, the warmth seeping through his shirt. Long black curls framed
Jasmira’s happy face. He gasped and said urgently, “I remember sitting on the
stairs at school. And you came and sat next to me. And you wrapped your arm
around me.”

“Yes.” she laughed in delight. “That actually happened many times.
We sat on those stairs often, watching the Earth chandelier. Think more.”

Jatred focused on a large framed photograph of Bogdan and Lusia. It
hung on the downstairs hallway wall in the Tornwoods’ house. The couple held hands
and smiled at each other. The look on their faces was of nothing else but contentment,
trust, and familiarity. Jatred knew this look. But he was sure it wasn’t in an
intimate way, not first hand. It felt to him as if he remembered it from a
movie. He sighed and said, resigned, “Nothing else.”

Jasmira forced an upbeat note into her voice. “Well, in just one day
you managed to retrieve two memories. I think that’s pretty damn great.”

“Are you always so positive?”

Jatred heard her talking to someone. Her voice came through muffled,
as if she put her hand on the phone. After a short exchange she said to him, “I
need to return to my grandma. They’ve finished putting her hip in a cast. I
have to convince her to stay at the hospital. We are safer here than at home, but
I doubt she will listen.”

“I remember your grandma,” he spoke in a rush. “She got really upset
with me in the woods… wait a minute. Did that really happen? That little
thought just popped into my head. But what woods, and why do I remember your
grandma there?”

“We shifted and went running through the forest on my property. She
came home early and somehow knew you were there with me. And you remember that.”
Jasmira sounded excited again.

Jatred made a noncommittal noise and glanced at another photo. This
one hung on the opposite wall of the hallway. Ivona Tornwood, much younger and
a few pounds slimmer, held a two-year-old Bogdan on her hip. The kid was
sucking on his thumb and cuddling up to her. Jatred shook his head and forced
himself to concentrate on retrieving that one memory from the void of his mind.

“It was back in August, before the beginning of school,” Jasmira
tried to help. “Sunny, warm, the birds were singing. Pen just left my house to talk
about a job with Doctor Bigbee. Anything ring a bell?”

He winced. “No. Nothing else.” He gritted his teeth in frustration.

Jasmira wavered for a moment, and then concealed disappointment in
her voice. “Okay. Give it a rest now. Maybe later.”

He felt anger building up inside him, surging through his veins,
choking his breathing. His face felt hot, and a trickle of sweat ran down his
temple; another traveled between his shoulder blades, stomach, and his arms,
soaking into the fabric of his torn shirt.

“I gotta go,” Jatred said. “Yeah, sure. Later.” He ended the call
and went back to the Tornwoods’ living room. His uncle had just arrived and now
he was talking with Andy and Ivona.

Bogdan and Lusia huddled together, speaking with their minds. They
kept the conversation private, using their mental shields. Jatred sat in the
chair opposite the couple. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his
knees, and kept his eyes on the dark screen of the cell phone, as if trying to
see beyond it.

Lusia looked at Jatred, and then exchanged glances with Bogdan.
“Jatred? Is everything okay?”

At first Jatred didn’t hear her, deep in his thoughts. When she
repeated the question, he lifted his eyes, startled, and looked at his friends
for a moment.

“Bro. What’s up?” Bogdan asked.

“Nothing. I’m cool,” Jatred said in a raspy voice, trying to conceal
the anger that kept obliterating his normally peaceful nature. When he thought
about Jasmira, the anger evaporated, leaving him confused and unsure of his own
feelings.

     
CHAPTER 51

Human World, November 18, evening.

Amber strolled on the wet sand. Cool water splashed her legs. The
sun had set long ago, but she still thought about its beauty, unchanged since the
beginning of time. She recalled how earlier that afternoon the sun had hidden
behind a puffy cloud, its rays extending out like elongated golden arrows,
framing the edges in a halo of bright
gilt.

By now the small beach was almost empty. Only three couples walked
along the water: one some two hundred yards in front of Amber, and two others
even further behind her. A small group of teenagers sat in a circle around a
bonfire, laughing and talking. A lonely seagull ran hurriedly in front of the
Goddess, its spindly legs moving fast. It took to the wing, screeching as if in
alarm, disturbing the soothing sound of the ocean waves. Amber frowned. She
turned her head to watch the creature fly off. Several large flocks of birds
moved fast in the sky, away from the shore.

The water retreated toward the ocean from under her feet, as if
sucked by a gigantic invisible vacuum, foaming and bubbling. And then she felt
it: an accumulated energy of something huge, approaching recklessly, unstoppable.
She closed her eyes and listened, feeling the gentle breeze quickly becoming a
wild wind, tugging on her hair and clothes. When Amber looked again, she saw a
massive angry wave stretched over the horizon. Dark water rolled forward, piled
up over sixty feet tall. A murmur-like hum declared danger, replacing the
calming sounds of the regular waves.

Tsunami,
the Goddess thought calmly. She turned her body to face the ocean,
watching the wall of water bowl forward, toward the beach, toward her. White
streaks of foam rolled on top of the surf, like strands of blond hair on a
livid giant’s head. And then the sirens began to blare out, warning the people
to run for safety.

The humans saw the wave but instead of moving, most of them stood,
pointing. All of the teens whipped out their cell phones and started to take
pictures. Two older couples ran in the direction of the houses, the women
screeching in terror. The teens followed, finally realizing the impending
threat.

The roar of the tsunami became like thunder, as if enraged by a lack
of response from the peacefully quiet shore. Amber lifted her arms, palms
forward, her eyes on the approaching danger. She shouted a long phrase into the
deafening sound of the tsunami in a language that hadn’t been spoken on Earth
in a few thousand years. She enunciated each word, repeating the phrase three
times, her strong voice carrying over the violent wind.

The wall of water was almost upon her when she felt another powerful
presence. Amber’s face contorted in rage when she saw Crystal standing on the
sand about hundred yards away, her feet bare. The other Goddess’s pose was
identical to Amber’s—her arms outstretched in front of her, palms flat, the
eyes on the ocean. Crystal’s voice boomed over the storm. She kept bellowing in
an ancient form of Gaelic. Her long hair wafted around her head, the color
changing from dark-brown to silver and back. She turned her face toward Amber,
and her lips curled in a vicious smile. The Winter Goddess’s eyes had no irises.
They appeared to be all black pupils. Her heavily tattooed skin gleamed silver,
creating a bright halo around her. The red and black tattoos seemed to crawl
over her skin, pulsing in and out of sight.

The wave slammed onto the Goddesses’ open palms. It couldn’t
penetrate the invisible wall they created in front of them. The wall stretched
for miles along the shore, the water crashing with unearthly force upon it. A
loud rumble like an airplane engine enveloped them. Both Goddesses kept up their
chanting, their voices lilting over the deafening noise.

Amber’s pupils became vertical slits. Her body lengthened, and she
became the Egyptian goddess Bastet. Although her head didn’t transform into the
lion’s head, her features resembled those of a wild cat. A spiraled script
covered her body. The shining lines of the text were reminiscent of liquid gold.
They moved like miniature snakes on her skin. Single letters kept separating
and slowly flaking away, like tiny fiery sparks. Static sizzled through her
hair in short electric snaps. She turned her head to look at Crystal, her long
sharp teeth bare.

“How dare you come here now?” she roared.

“I’m not here to rescue
you
!”
the Winter Goddess shouted back. She strained against the force in front of her.
“I’m obliged to protect the humans and Shifters.”