Wraithsong (7 page)

I nod.

“
I’ll show you the upstairs
after we eat, okay?” he says.

“
Sounds great.” I’m
overwhelmed by the obvious wealth his family has managed to
accumulate, especially since Maureen is a single mother. My mom is
well-off because of the insurance money we received after my dad
died and because of the money she has been able to save up over her
lifetime, but this is another level of well-off.

“
I trust it’s all right
that I invited you here. I thought it would be more relaxed than in
a restaurant,” Anthony says.

I don’t want to be rude and
tell him what I really think, so I just say, “It’s great, thank
you.” We step outside onto the patio through the kitchen glass
sliding doors, the wind softly caressing my face. Behind their home
is a large murky lake, with lily pads and hot pink flowers floating
on the surface.

“
I hope you’re not
vegetarian or something like that. I forgot to ask.” Anthony pulls
out a wicker chair for me to sit. The table is decked to the nines,
with white gold embellished china plates, wineglasses, sparkly
silverware, and white linen napkins. He has really worked on this
meal, I can tell, and he’s definitely doing a great job in
endearing me to him.

“
No, I’m a meat-eater.” I
sit down and get comfortable.

He chuckles.

I’m a little suspicious
about why he’s suddenly started to treat me so well. Does he want
something from me? Maybe I accidentally used my flair on him, and
that’s why he’s acting like such a gentleman.

“
Sorry again about Friday,
I had to pick up a young lady after cheerleading practice.” His
smile grows wide and his eyes shine.

“
Oh,” I say, slighted that
he’s bringing up another girl, especially a cheerleader and is
apparently very pleased about it.

“
Yeah, my niece lives just
north of here, almost in Bradenton. She’s twelve.”

I feel stupid for having
misjudged Anthony and do my best to hide my blushing
cheeks.

“
Do you have any family
around here?” He takes his seat across from mine and I try not to
look at his muscular legs, so I focus on his eyes
instead.

“
No.” I don’t like talking
about my family because I haven’t met them yet, and wouldn’t know
how to explain it to Anthony. A white egret, flying past the
screened-in lanai, catches my eye.

“
Lemonade?” Anthony lifts
the round glass pitcher and gestures to me.

“
Yes,
please.” While he fills my glass, I notice his gold ring with a
crest that
looks like a lion’s,
holding an ax. Surrounding the lion is a serpent design.

“
Where did you get your
ring from? It’s lovely.”

“
It’s an old Norse ring.”
His eyes start blinking rapidly and he looks away.
“So, no family?” he says.

I try not to grimace while
wondering why he’s still asking about my family.

“
I enjoy learning about
where people come from. Do you have any grandparents or aunts and
uncles?”

“
Well, no not really, it’s
just my mom and me,” I say, sipping my drink. It’s the perfect
blend of sweet and sour. I don’t think I should tell him about my
newfound aunts. “That I know of anyway,” I add.

“
Your father doesn’t have
any siblings?” Anthony asks.

“
No, what about you? Any
family other than your family in Bradenton?”

“
Actually, they’re not
really my blood-family. They’ve just been close friends of my
mother’s for a really long time.” He holds up the plate filled with
triangle cut sandwiches.

“
Oh, okay.” I grab a
chicken salad sandwich off the serving platter and take a bite,
hearing the lettuce crunch as I eat. Anthony runs his fingers
through his hair, wondering why he really brought me
here.

“
Yes, there’s a lot I could
tell you, Sonia—about my life. I might not be as commonplace as you
think.” His eyes narrow and he stares at me.

What does that mean? Is he
trying to attract me with a mysterious personality? Strangely
enough, when I think about his approach, it kind of works, but I’m
not going to let him know that. “Is that what you tell all your
dates?” I tease.

Anthony laughs, but looks
tense. “I don’t date a lot.”

I raise my right eyebrow,
highly unconvinced by his statement.

“
It’s the truth.” He seems
a little peeved that I find it hard to believe him.

“
Okay, then,” I say, my
tone playful. “I thought you said you had a date to
prom.”

He sighs, displeased. “Why
do you have to be so…skeptical?”

I try to filter the words
that come out of my mouth, but for some reason they just pour out.
“Well, when you make such a ridiculous statement, do you expect me
to just play along?”

“
How are
my statements ridiculous exactly? I don’t question you when you
said you don’t have
any
extended family, even though it sounds outlandish
and is highly improbable that you don’t have anyone at all,” he
says.

He has a point. Should I
concede? No. “Okay, let’s just drop it and enjoy our lunch. I’m
very grateful—and impressed—that you made such a lovely
meal.”

“
I’ll let it go for now,”
he says and looks out across the lake, a slight frown on his lips.
“Are you finished with your sandwich? I want to show you my
bedroom.” He looks straight at me.

I must have tensed up
because he notices.

“
Don’t flatter yourself. I
just want to show you some of my Norse mythology finds. Is that all
right with you?”

I kick myself again for
having been so critical of him especially since the friendly
atmosphere we started out with has disappeared. Maybe he isn’t like
all the other boys I’ve met—that I judged him to be like. “Sorry,”
I say, softening my voice. This date is turning into a disaster,
and though I want to blame him, I suspect it has just as much to do
with me.

Chapter 6

“
This is my room.” He opens
the door into a space that looks like an apartment. There’s a small
kitchen to the right of the entrance with a fridge, microwave and
dishwasher and to the left is a comfy-looking brown microfiber
sectional with a matching ottoman. The plush carpet is a deep
caramel color, and the desk in the corner is made of oak. Though I
don’t want to draw attention to the king sized bed through the
archway on the right, I notice that it’s dressed in a navy duvet
with silver and cobalt blue pillows.

“
Have a seat.” Anthony
gestures to the two russet leather chairs over in the intimate
rotunda by the window. “I’m going to get my treasure chest,” he
says a little excitedly.

I set my purse on the floor
in the small rotunda and sit down on one of the chairs, feeling the
soft leather under my fingertips. The room offers a perfect view of
the lake, and it seems to go on for about a mile. Ducks and their
young waddle their way to the water and a few swans float ever so
gracefully on the rippling surface.

Anthony comes back,
carrying a small wooden chest.

“
Oh, it really is a
treasure chest,” I say. “I didn’t expect it to actually be a
treasure chest.” Norse writings cover the handmade box, vine-like
plants and slithering serpents snake around the sides and the top.
“It looks ancient.” My interest is piqued. I always wondered what
my mom’s fascination with the Norse was all about, but now that I
know I’m a Huldra, I’m becoming as fascinated as she.

“
I don’t know how old it
is, but the designs date back to the Viking Age.”

“
Come on, you don’t
believe...it would be rotten by now…” I remember what he said
earlier about me and stop myself from being skeptical again.
“Cool!” I say quickly.

He sets the toaster-sized
chest on top of one of the soccer magazines on the glass table
situated between the two seats. The chest creaks when he opens it.
I really want to see what’s inside the chest and can’t help myself
from glancing around its lid to get a sneak peak.

“
This is what I wanted to
show you. You told me you like Norse mythology, and you
specifically talked about Huldras.”

He can be remarkably sweet
when he wants to.

“
So here you are.” Anthony
lifts a scroll up, unrolls it and shows me the picture on it. It
looks like an old ink drawing of a beautiful woman with flowers in
her long wavy hair. The woman is wearing a thin garment, almost
Greek-looking in style, and underneath the woman are some markings
similar to futhark—ancient Norse symbols.

“
What does it say?” I ask,
sitting on the edge of my seat. I tried to learn Futhark right
before my dad died, but gave it up as other things took over in my
life.

“
Lady of the forest,”
Anthony says.

“
So she’s a—Huldra?” My
heart jumps into my throat because that word has a whole different
meaning to me than it did just a few days ago.

“
Yes.” He
smiles.

“
How old is the
drawing?”

“
You wouldn’t believe me if
I told you,” he says, handing me the frayed scroll.

“
Try me,” I say, carefully
accepting it.

“
All right, the numbers on
the bottom say one-zero-seven-nine.”

“
As in the year one
thousand and seventy-nine?” I gasp.

“
Yes.” He looks
proud.

I don’t know if he’s
pulling my leg or if he’s actually telling the truth. “How did you
get your hands on this, exactly?” I wonder if my family in
Minnesota also has similar types of drawings, or chests.

“
My mother bought it in
Norway at an auction. I’m not telling you how much she paid for it,
though.”

I believe that he believes
that it’s an original, but is it really authentic? “What do you
know of Huldras?” I ask him carefully, curious to hear what his
view of the seductive forest maidens is.

“
Well, I’m not sure, but
from what I’ve read, they have bark-covered backs, long animal
tails, and seduce poor men into…well, pleasuring the Huldras for
months on end, and if the men don’t comply, the Huldra kills
them.”

I think I see him blush a
little, like me. “Do you believe they actually exist?”

He looks me straight in the
eyes and then says, “You’d be surprised if I told you how much I
know of those creatures.”

I keep my gaze steady in
his and feel a chill surge through my spine as the air
thickens.

He then looks out the
window and our connection is broken. “But don’t be ridiculous.
They’re just a myth, like trolls and fairies.” He slumps back in
his seat and crosses his right ankle just above his left knee.
“Some man probably made up a lie because he was unable to stay
faithful to his wife, and when she found out, he blamed it on the
Huldra, saying that she had forced him into having an affair with
her.”

“
Do you think the wives
believed it?” I ask, trying hard to steady my trembling
voice.

He looks back at me again,
not quite as intense this time. “Probably not fully, but they
didn’t have a way to disprove it if they didn’t.” Anthony leans
forward and closes the lid. There’s something about the way he
moves that mesmerizes me and I can’t deny that my whole body yearns
for his, but it’s more than physical yearning. I want to control
him, make him do what I want, make him do what I want…to me. Even
though my mom warned me and I promised not to use my flair on
anyone, I find my thoughts lingering on what might happen if I did
use it on him. Could I get him to kiss me? Then I feel the guilt
creep in and as much as I want to, I know that it would be wrong to
use my flair on him for selfish purposes.

His hand brushes across my
knee and a surge of desire overwhelms me. I want to kiss him, like
I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone, and for him to be mine. My Huldra
side is growing stronger by the day, by the minute, especially when
I’m around Anthony, but I promised my mom I wouldn’t use it, and
deep down, I know I don’t want a relationship with Anthony simply
because I’m controlling him. “Here,” I say, handing him back the
scroll.

“
You keep it for a day or
two,” he says, standing up. “Show your mom; I’m sure she’ll like
it.”

I stand up, too. I feel
honored, yet guarded, now suspecting that he definitely wants
something in return. “I don’t think I should.”

“
Well, I know where you go
to school, and normally you are a good girl, except for when you
spit in unsuspecting, but well-deserving girls’ faces.” He
grins.

I want to punch him in the
arm, but he’s too far away. “You knew all along!” His comments
almost make me think that he’s been watching me for a while before
we ever even met. No, that would be too strange and creepy. Anthony
doesn’t seem like a stalker.

“
Of course I know.
Principal Jenkins shares everything with me.” He looks happy with
himself, as he cracks a smug little smile.