The Ballad of Aramei (The Darkwoods Trilogy 3)

She’s studying my face, not sure yet whether to believe me. For all she knows, I could just be telling her what she needs to hear.

“I’m serious,” I say. “I think you did the right thing in giving Aramei peace.”

Her eyebrows harden a little. “But why?” she says. “How can it have been right if I was supposed to infect her?”

Because I’m straying from my kind, Adria, I say to myself. Because if you would’ve succeeded, you would’ve opened another gateway into my world and that’s not something any human here would want.

“Because it was your decision to make,” I say instead, “and no matter what you were destined to do, you did what you felt was right and so that makes it right.”

She smiles vaguely and looks off to the side.

“But what about you?” she says without meeting my eyes. Her hands fidget restlessly within the ring of her lap.

Me? Ah, yeah, me. I’ll be punished. If I’m caught. But I won’t be caught, for a while anyway, because I intend to make a break for it after this is over and get the hell outta here.

“Nothing that sucks too much,” I finally answer her and let the goofy smile spread broader across my face. “They’ll just rip away a few stars from my jacket and slap me on the wrist, but you’re not the first Charge I’ve failed. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

The punishment is brutal. I won’t go through it again….

She had started to smile, until the f-word.

“You didn’t fail me, Harry. Maybe they, whoever they are, consider you a failure because I didn’t do what I was ‘destined’ to do, but don’t you ever say you’ve failed me. I’d be a psychiatric patient if it weren’t for you, or I might be sniffin’ too much stuff from underneath the bathroom sink like crazy-ass Cecilia acts like she does. Damn, Harry, I could be a slut if I ended up best friends with Tori. I could have glittery hoe-bag clothes hanging in my closet!”

I laugh.

“I doubt you could ever be a slut,” I say and then wrinkle one side of my nose and glance upward playfully, “but I dunno…you might look hot in glittery hoe-bag clothes.”

Her foot pops out from underneath one knee and kicks me in the boot.

She gets serious again. “There’s something else that I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Shoot.”

“How long am I supposed to be your Charge exactly?”

I didn’t see that one coming.

I smile a close-lipped smile across at her. “Well, I can say that you’re officially off the hook.”

“What?”

I nod hard once. “Yep! You haven’t been my Charge technically since you…well, you know.”

“Oh…,” she doesn’t know really what to think about this news.

“If Aramei were still…alive,” I say and just cut to the chase rather than trying to tiptoe constantly around the dismal truth, “then I’d still be trying to influence you to infect her.”

Actually, I wouldn’t be doing that anymore. Because, like I said, it looks as though I’ve recently made the decision to stray from my kind. But Adria doesn’t need to know about any of that.

She seems lost in thought for a moment. “So, you’re here because of Daisy?”

My smile widens, showing now more in the corners of my eyes. “Yeah, I’m here because of her, but you’re still my best friend and I want to do what I can to keep you safe.”

Adria returns the smile.

I guess it’s also a good thing she doesn’t know that because she didn’t fulfill her so-called destiny that I’m supposed to kill her.

Yeah…another damn good reason that it’s time for me to become one of the renegades.

Renegade. Hmmm, I kinda like the sound of that. I could get a motorcycle and a big ass gun and ride around in Death Valley with a new tattoo.

Or, maybe I should just stick to skateboarding.

Daisy, Camilla, Shannon and Elizabeth come back inside after spending some time outside the cave, casing the area.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Daisy says. “Adria, I think picking this place was a good idea.”

Damn, I love that English accent of hers. I grin up at Daisy and she blushes. I can always get her to blush.

“Well, I’m not worried about us here,” Adria says, turning at the waist to look up at Daisy, but then she just stands up altogether and crosses her arms. “I’m worried about Isaac and the others. The longer we stay in here, the more I believe he intentionally left me here to keep me out of the fight.”

That’s exactly what Isaac did, but I’m not about to admit it to her and neither is Daisy. Daisy and I share a knowing look.

Adria notices.

“That’s what he did, isn’t it?” Her face hardens disapprovingly.

Daisy smiles reassuringly and says, “No, he’ll come back and when he does he’ll have a small army with him.”

Alex and Rachel emerge from the dark, dank stone hallway that leads farther into the cave; a blazing torch moves along the wall, glowing against the rock ceiling from Alex’s hand. When they step back into the large area where the rest of us are, the darkness swallows up the passageway behind them. Alex places the fiery torch into the mount on the wall nearby, leaving a bath of new light to spread across the room. Alex hops onto the stone table and sits on the edge with her legs dangling off the side.

“This place is so medieval,” Rachel says, sneering and looking edgy as she scans every inch of the area with an ugly wrinkled-up nose. She hasn’t done much since she got here except complain about how musty the cave is and talk about how that skeleton is creeping her out. “Really, like Black Plague, behead-a-Boleyn-girl medieval.” She visibly shudders, crossing her arms.

“They didn’t typically live in caves,” Alex says, swinging her legs back and forth.

“Whatever, girl. You know what I mean!”

Alex rolls her eyes and turns to Adria.

“How are you doing over there, sis?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Well, of course I’m a liar.” Adria raises her hands in surrender. “How do you expect me to be?”

Adria regretted the attitude right after she’d snapped at her sister, but given the circumstances Alex understands and doesn’t take offense.

Adria begins to pace and she’s growing more restless every passing second.

Daisy sits on the tabletop next to Alex and pulls her legs onto it, Indian-style. “Well, Sian and her group are all outside, scattered all around the cave to keep watch—not that I think we need it, but just in case.”

Sian is the red-headed leach that used to follow Rachel around like a lost puppy, until Alex came along.

“Daisy,” Adria says, “be honest with me; can Isaac defeat your father?”

The room becomes quiet.

Daisy steps up and takes Adria’s hands into hers. This is what Daisy’s great at: easing the troubled with that infectious smile of hers.

“I think that if anyone can, it would be Isaac or Nathan,” she says honestly.

Adria’s not so easily comforted this time. She turns to me brashly, as if she’d just thought of something with the potential to give her hope.

“Can you see it?” she says. “My future? Can you see anything that might tell me that Isaac is still in it?”

I hate to ruin that hopeful light shining dimly in her eyes, but I can’t lie to her, either.

“I can’t see anything anymore,” I admit. “You’re no longer my Charge and because you changed the course of your destiny, everything I did see in my visions of you really doesn’t apply anymore.”

Adria’s shoulders and chest inflate and she lowers her head. Alex hops off the table and walks around to stand behind her, draping her arms over each of Adria’s shoulders and crossing them over her chest.

She kisses her hard on the cheek. “Dria, I don’t know Isaac—except that he’s smokin’ hot, but that’s beside the point—but I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“What makes you say that?” Adria says.

“I’m not sure…a gut feeling, I guess.”

Adria actually smiles and for a split second I can hear her thoughts: “Wow, Alex and Isaac really do have a lot in common.”

Rachel makes use of the spot on the table where Alex just left and she lies down fully on her back against it, looking up at the low rock ceiling, her raven-black hair spread out around her sloppily. Camilla takes the wooden chair at the head of the table, while Shannon and Elizabeth start walking toward the cave exit.

Shannon looks across at Daisy. “We’re going to take watch with Sian,” she says.

“Yeah, it’s stuffy in here,” Elizabeth says and they both leave together.

Camilla has been quieter than usual; even now she just kind of stares off at the wall. I’ve tried to get into her head a few times, but she’s been difficult to break. I don’t know, but it’s odd, like she’s been using every shred of mental strength she owns to keep anyone from getting inside of her mind. She even looks exhausted.

Alex let’s go of Adria and leans against the table’s edge.

“Something’s not adding up,” Adria says at no one in particular. Then her face shoots up and she looks right at me and then at Daisy with burning worry in her eyes. “Don’t you think Trajan would’ve found out by now?” She doesn’t give anyone a chance to answer. “I mean think about it; he’s been connected to her for over two centuries, even though Viktor was the one she was bonded to, still, Trajan has been inside her mind. He had a link to her because she drank from him for so long—shouldn’t he know by now?”

She makes a valid point, but I want to think more on this before I agree openly with her.

Unfortunately, Daisy doesn’t:

“I’ve thought about that, too,” she says. “You know, it’s been quiet, almost too quiet—I’ve opened my mind to my father, just to see if I could sense any emotion in him, anything at all, but I haven’t heard or felt a thing.”

“Thought you said he closed himself off to all his offspring?” Rachel says from the table, now sitting propped up by her elbows. “How would you know anything at all?”

“Well, he did,” Daisy clarifies, “but with something like this, it just seems like we would know when he knew.”

“Yeah,” Alex says, “I would think the second he found out, not only his kids would know, but every werewolf in a hundred mile radius that wasn’t telepathically connected to him, would know. This is like the ultimate scream-at-the-top-of-your-lungs scenario. Goat herders in Mongolia should hear Trajan howling from the mountainside.”

Adria’s nervousness has amplified intensely over the past minute, which is what I was trying to avoid by not putting in my two cents. She has started pacing, back and forth along the length of the enormous table; one arm resting across her stomach, the other hand over her mouth with her fingers curled nervously over her lips.