The Ballad of Aramei (The Darkwoods Trilogy 3) - Page 12

I look away.

“You may leave,” Trajan says, abruptly changing the mood in the room. He turns his back to us again and goes toward the bed. “Isaac,” he says as he sits down on the edge of the bed and goes to remove his boots. “Bring her back in the morning. Aramei is trying to tell me something and I want to know what it is before this week is over.”

Isaac stands from the table and takes me by the hand to stand with him. Surprisingly, he bows to Trajan and says, “Yes, Father,” giving him the same respect he has always given him as if he had never been angry about before.

Trajan removes the second boot and turns at the waist to look across at us. And then as if it comes completely natural to me, I find myself bowing in the same manner that Isaac had. Trajan nods to me as if to accept it.

“I’ll…see you tomorrow, I guess,” I say smiling squeamishly and sort of fumbling over the words, sounding completely unlike any formal werewolf in the presence of the Sovereign.

I doubt I’ll ever be able to do that, to say ‘Milord’ or use big, sophisticated words that will only make me sound like an American trying to talk with an English accent. I’ll just stick with who I am and absorb a few essential tricks along the way that will at least make it seem like I know what I’m doing.

Chapter 7

BY THE TIME WE make it back to Hallowell, it’s pitch dark. I know I have to go home tonight and see Aunt Bev and Uncle Carl so they don’t start worrying. Thankfully, Genna helped with erasing their minds of my two week disappearance before she disappeared herself not long ago. But I haven’t been home in a week because I was sort of tied up, literally, in the basement of the Mayfair house. I did call a lot and talk to Beverlee and Uncle Carl, just to let them know I was okay, but I could tell in Beverlee’s voice the last time I talked to her that she was depressed about me being gone so long.

But I have to give the credit to Harry for using his Praverian powers of controlling emotions, which has eased their minds about me staying away like this in the first place. They aren’t completely approving of it—I refused to let Harry manipulate them fully because it isn’t right just to suit my everyday needs—but they are more at ease about it at least.

I’m equally glad that it’s still summer vacation and I don’t have to find ways to dodge going to school for the same reason. I’ll cross that bridge later.

This new life, this new existence of mine is hard to juggle when I have human family members that love me and who have no idea that once a month every bone in my body breaks and I tend to…eat things. It’s just not something you talk about over dinner.

We pull into the drive and Isaac puts the Jeep in park.

“I’ll be here to pick you up around six,” he says turning at the waist and resting his left wrist on the steering wheel.

“Six? Like a.m.?” I feel my eyes widening.

Isaac grins softly and says in a you-got-yourself-into-this sort of way, “When my father says ‘in the morning’ he doesn’t mean after your shower and breakfast.”

Of course, I didn’t get myself totally into this; I had no choice in the beginning, but I did make it easier on Trajan by practically admitting openly my desire to continue.

I smirk at him, crinkling one side of my nose. But really it is okay and despite having to get up so early, I do look forward to seeing Aramei again.

Just like Isaac said, he was here at six on the dot and I barely got my teeth brushed before I was hopping in his Jeep. I slept the whole way, at least as much as the bucket seat would allow. Twice I jerked awake when Isaac went over a bump in the road and my head popped gently against the window next to me. And when we got to the cabin, Trajan forced Isaac to stay outside where he waited impatiently for me, talking to Raul while I got absolutely nowhere with Aramei in three hours.

She was awake the whole time, but I couldn’t get inside her head. She was just regular mindless Aramei. Eva tried coaxing her and I tried talking to her, but our efforts were wasted.

Trajan agreed to let me come back tomorrow and try again, rather than making me hang around all day and night. But this was more vital than just being relieved of severe boredom; Isaac, Nathan, Daisy and me have an important trip to take today to find someone Harry calls a ‘Harvester’ who will—or might (Harry said they are wicked and spiteful and never do anything for free) give us what we need to trap the Dark Praverian.

We’re heading to The Cove to meet up with Harry now so he can give us the rest of the details. He can’t go with us because they harvest, or rather ‘reap’ Praverian souls.

As if this couldn’t get any weirder….

We pull into the parking lot by the Kennebec River, the same one where the fight broke out between the Vargas pack and ours last fall. It’s vacant and looks like the City came and cleaned it up of all the trash and beer cans left over by the crowd that got busted not long ago. I feel nervous just being here, especially now that there are several NO LOITERING signs posted and we aren’t supposed to be hanging around here. But if any cops come, at least we don’t have to worry about getting tossed in jail for underage drinking or drug possession. They’ll probably just slap us on the wrist and tell us not to come back.

Harry and Daisy are sitting on the hood of his old car with Nathan parked next to them, sitting inside his FJ Crusier. We pull in on the other side of Harry’s car and get out.

“I don’t like this one bit,” Daisy says getting off the hood and crossing her arms stubbornly as she walks toward me. “Did you know about this, Nathan? Isaac?” She glares at both of them and then her big blue eyes fall on me. “You’re not going to like this, Adria.” She shakes her blond head slow and heavy and her curly ponytail swings side to side. A pair of little jangling gold earrings hangs from each earlobe.

“I told you,” Harry says to Daisy, slipping his arm around her waist, “as long as they don’t let it slip that I live here I don’t have to worry about them finding me.”

“You worry too much,” Nathan says jumping onto Harry’s hood. “They’re human and they can’t read minds, so how would he or she know Harry lives in Hallowell, or that you’re his very overprotective girlfriend?”

“Shove it, Nate,” Daisy snaps and Nathan shakes his head, grinning.

She turns back to us and Harry.

“You’re right,” I say to Daisy, “I don’t like it either even though I don’t know very much about these people, but we have no other choice, I guess.”

“No,” Harry says, “you don’t and if there was something else, I’d do it before taking this route.”

“Isaac moves to Harry’s car and sits on the hood with Nathan. I stand by Daisy, who looks distraught. She does have more reason to worry than I do since Harry is a Praverian and his life could be at stake. This Harvester, or whatever, isn’t going to come looking for Isaac or for me.

“You say they’re human.” I look right at Harry, crossing my arms much like Daisy. “How can they hurt you then? Or rather, how can they reap you?” I sense Daisy tense up next to me after I said that telling word, reap.

Harry runs his hand through his messy brown hair and leans against his car, crossing his arms and his feet.

“It’s an archaic sort of witchcraft,” Harry says, “definitely not like any of that Wicca stuff you see nowadays or anything like that. That’s all new. This craft is the mother of modern-day witchcraft and voodoo and that hocus-pocus mumbo-jumbo.” He uncrosses his arms and starts to gesture as he explains. “A single bloodline has carried this craft down for generations—people who’ve thrived almost as long as we have, but they’re thinning out. There’s not too many left anymore.”

“I say that’s a good thing,” Daisy scoffs.

“In a sense, it is, but believe it or not we need them,” Harry says.

“Like in this situation,” Isaac says from the hood of the car. He sits with his boots propped on the front bumper, his legs splayed and his hands folded, draped between his knees. “They’re the only ones who know how to trap a Praverian gone Dark.”

Harry nods to confirm Isaac’s assumption.

“Well then,” I say, “how do you know where to find one?”

“The phone book,” Harry answers.

I roll my eyes and glance over at Isaac whose face remains standard. I guess I’m the only one who finds Harry’s answer sarcastic.

Oh wait…no, by that smirk creeping up at the corner of Harry’s mouth, he does too. Daisy snarls at him and cocks her head to one side, reproachfully.

“The phone book?” I say dryly, pursing my lips and with one brow raised.

“Yeah,” Harry says with a mild shrug, “well a little research on the net and then the online White Pages, but that was about it. They come from an ancient Norse family and their surname has changed over time, but since we have to stay out of their way it’s kind of our job to keep track of them.”

“Okay, so who are we looking for?” Isaac says.

Harry turns at the waist to face him and reaches inside the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a folded piece of paper. He holds it up and flicks it hard with the fingers on his other hand and a snap ripples through the air. Walking over to Isaac on the hood of the car, he hands it out to him.

“Minna Abrahamsen,” Harry says and Isaac takes the paper. “Providence, Rhode Island.”

“Rhode Island?” I say, exasperated. “That’s a little far, don’t you think?”

Isaac unfolds the paper and he and Nathan peer into its contents. Daisy just shakes her head more solemnly beside me.

“Well, it was either Rhode Island or Akron, Ohio,” Harry says raising his hands, palms up. “Like I said, there’s not many left.”

I walk over to stand beside Isaac and look down into the paper, too. It’s just an address. “So, when do we go?” I say, looking up at Harry again.

“I say we get this over with,” Nathan speaks out and I’ve hardly seen him look so serious before. “It’s been long enough. I want whoever it is found and dealt with.”

Isaac slips the address in his back pocket. “I agree,” he says, straightening his back. “Just knowing that there’s been a traitor possibly living in the same house with us all this time makes me crazy. It’s like I can’t trust anybody anymore and it’s causing a lot of tension around the house.”

I slip in and stand between Isaac’s legs, propping my arms on his thighs. I feel him lean over me from behind and chills race across my skin when he kisses my bare neck. After he leans back up and the chills subside I say, “Yeah even Zia and Sebastian are starting to take offense. And it’s hard for me not to confide in Zia, y’know?”

Daisy sighs and looks sad all of a sudden. “And I hate to say it, but worse than those two, we’re starting to make enemies of our own blood.” She shakes her head glumly. “Camilla thinks I hate her and she’s my favorite sister.”

Tags: J.A. Redmerski The Darkwoods Trilogy Fantasy
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