Minna’s smile widens as she looks at us in a sidelong glance. “What are planning to do then,” she says, “lure a large group of people you think might include the Praverian, far away from where you live and trap it there? That’s a lot to risk just to keep me from knowing where you live.”
“We’ll be moving away from there,” Isaac says, catching me off-guard yet again, “after we get rid of the Praverian, so I guess it won’t matter then, will it?”
Minna, maybe tired of the games herself, or just in dire need of getting back upstairs and drinking down that blood, shakes her head and moves toward the stairs.
“You’ve exhausted your welcome,” she says. “I’ll give you my phone number in the kitchen and then you should be on your way.”
It’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all day.
By the time we make it back into the kitchen, Minna is so out of breath and wheezing heavily that I can’t help but feel bad for her, despite what kind of woman she is. She braces her hands against the wall, letting it keep her balance as she makes her way toward the hall that leads back into the living room. She nearly falls twice, but we stay back and just watch her. She doesn’t want or deserve our help, but there’s a great sense of relief behind that fact.
“I’ll be right back,” she says as she slips around the corner and out of sight.
We wait here in the kitchen, surround again by clutter and elephants, but it’s better than fingers and teeth. Each of us gazes all around us, grimacing at just about everything.
“I almost feel like I’m in an episode of Hoarders,” Nathan says, titling his head back to look upward at the numerous decorative plates mounted along the top of the wall and covered in two inches of dust.
But then his head falls and his fingers come up unsteadily against his forehead, the tips of them barely touching the skin.
“Are you okay, Nate?” Isaac says, looking worried.
“No. Not at all.”
Nathan lowers his body into a crouch and braces his elbows on his knees, thrusting his head in his hands.
“I think I’m gonna’ be sick,” Nathan adds, his voice hiding a desperate, painful ambience.
Me and Isaac rush over to him, but he waves us away with one hand. His head comes up, but his eyes are squinted shut tight as though a migraine is throttling his brain.
In seconds, Minna is coming back around the corner and entering the kitchen with us, but as a somewhat healthier person. Nathan remains crouched as Isaac and I turn to see her fully. She’s still the same ugly, leathery woman that will never get laid again, but Nathan’s blood is already working its magic through her. She stands in front of us without shaking hands or a wheezing, raspy chest. Even her smile appears healthier, as if her personality is getting a makeover, too. But that’s just a façade; nothing can make her a better person.
It makes me sick thinking about Nathan’s blood coursing through her body, but it is what it is.
Minna reaches out her hand to Isaac and produces a business card with a wrecker service imprinted on one side. We peer down into it confusedly until Isaac flips it over to see Minna Abrahamsen and a ten-digit number scribbled on the blank side.
Nathan rises to his feet behind us, but I don’t look back at him, hoping to detract Minna’s attention from him as much as possible. But I feel his emotional pain and his combined with Isaac’s over the whole situation, makes my chest ache.
“It will kill you,” Minna says in a voice as smooth as silk, as though her lungs had never been touched by cancer. “You remember that when you’re staring it in the eyes. Do the smart thing and let me reap it.”
Without another word, we leave the home of Minna Abrahamsen, Nathan walking out first so he can be as far away from her as quickly as possible. When we make it onto the sidewalk snaking along against the street, Minna says from the porch, “You taste as good as I knew you would.”
Nathan picks up the pace; his arms as stiff as bricks down against his sides, and his hands clenched into massive fists.
Chapter 12
I TURN AROUND IN the front seat of the Jeep to see Nathan sitting behind Isaac. I don’t want to sound cliché and ask him how he’s feeling, or if he’s alright, but I feel so bad for him that I need to do or say something. I just don’t know what it is.
A smile breaks in his face and although I know it’s forced, I just smile back and accept it.
“Y’know,” I say, “if you were still dating skinny little Hannah, she could take care of Minna easily.”
I remember how jealous Hannah was when we were in Portland last month. So coy and quiet and meat-deprived, but at the end of the day I knew she was as dangerous as we come, especially when it came to Nathan.
“Yeah, well since she dumped me I’ll have to settle with my brother.” He pats the back of Isaac’s seat, grinning hugely and trying to brighten the mood even if only for himself. Nathan never was one to show much anger or be open about any of his emotions except the playful, positive ones. I don’t expect him to start now.
“And I will, bro,” Isaac says, glancing up in the rearview mirror at him, “as soon as we deal with this, I’m on it.”
It’s dark when we make it back to Hallowell and the drive home was filled mostly with conversation about how we were going to go about trapping the Praverian. Each of us had our own ideas, but not one of us could agree that any of them were likely to work. And Nathan wasn’t himself really, as to be expected, so his ideas weren’t as thought through as they could’ve been. His mind drifted more than he could contribute to the discussion. Isaac and I tried hard to distract him with jokes and banter, but usually to no avail.
But Nathan is good at keeping a smile on his face, never letting the true depth of his pain dictate his natural personality which makes Nathan, Nathan. Of course, I know that sexy bad boy smile of his that never fails to melt any woman he crosses paths with is just a mask.
I just wonder how long he’ll be able to wear it.
We pull into the drive at the Mayfair house and all is quiet. Only a couple of cars are parked out front and a few lights burn in the windows of the upstairs floor.
Since I became a werewolf and Isaac officially became Alpha, life around here has been calming down now that order has been established. Isaac, despite still being the same guy I fell in love with, has certainly taken on his role as Alpha when it comes to just about everybody else. It amazes me how he became the one dominant force among all of them without having to do anything except wear the title. He never had to prove himself to anyone or put anyone in their place. All he has to do is give an order and without question or argument (except from Nathan, but that’s different) that order is fulfilled.
Even Rachel, who will always hate me and would rather see me strung up and quartered than see me with Isaac, treats me with as much respect as she’s capable of giving. And as always, Isaac allows her a little more slack than he would someone else, given she came from a rogue bloodline and can’t help it that she’s an inherent bitch.
“I’m going to shower in scalding hot water for about an hour and then I’m going to bed,” Nathan says after he closes the door on the Jeep.
Isaac walks over and embraces his brother firmly. They pat each other on the back hard and then pull away. I hide the fact that seeing them like that, so close and protective of one another, chokes me up. I think of my sister, Alex, but force her face out of my mind before it affects me too much.
“Thank you,” Isaac says to Nathan, “for what you did.”
“Oh shut up, man,” Nathan jokes, though his smile is warm with appreciation.
“I’m serious, Nate,” Isaac looks at him intently. “I can never repay you for that sacrifice.”
“Dude, you don’t have to,” Nathan says, patting Isaac against his upper arm. “You’re my little brother—over me at a leadership standpoint at the moment, but that’ll change—,” He grins wickedly, “but it’s my job to protect you and your bullheaded girlfriend.” He grins over at me and I playfully rumple my nose at him.
Always the charmer. Always the first one to step up. And never one to complain about it. Those are the types you feel the worst for when something unfortunate befalls them.
Nathan says goodnight and jogs up the porch, letting the front door shut softly behind him.
“This sucks,” I say, crossing my arms loosely. “Are you really going to deal with it when this is over?” I don’t doubt Isaac’s promise one bit, but this is my way of showing him I need to talk about it.
Isaac nods still gazing toward the porch where Nathan last stood and looking lost in thought. Finally he turns back to me and smiles weakly, pulling me toward him with my elbows cupped in his hands. “Want to go swimming?”
“Right now?”
“Well yeah,” he says, letting his smile brighten. “It’s late and no one’s around. I haven’t been able to get you by yourself in a while, it seems.”
My indecisive expression becomes more accepting as I smile back up at him. He’s right about us not having time alone lately with the whole Aramei thing going on and now this situation with Minna and the traitor.
“Let’s go,” I say, taking him by the hand and leading him toward the porch.
“The pond’s that way,” he says, stopping me.
“But I need a bathing suit.”
“No you don’t,” he says, trying not to grin too hugely. “Really, I’m not trying to get your clothes off, babe, it’s just that it’ll only be the two of us and you can swim in your panties.”
Most of what he said is genuine; he really is just trying to be efficient, but this is Isaac and I don’t believe for a second that he has no desire to get my clothes off. I tilt my head to one side and smirk at him. “So you don’t want to just get me nak*d then?” I pretend to be offended and turn away with my arms still crossed.
“Nah, I’m good,” he says, turning my game around on me.
My head jerks around and my mouth falls open with a spat of air. Isaac’s impish grin widens and he takes off running towards the woods leading to the pond behind the house.
I scream out after him and then take off running, too, thankful that the path through the woods is wide and clear so I’m not having to weave my way through tree limbs and around fall-breaking rocks. And in under a minute, I make it to the bank of the pond where Isaac is waiting for me, standing on the end of an old, weathered wooden dock looking out over the dark water. I walk calmly up behind him and he turns at the waist to see me.
“It’s warm enough,” he says now bending over and brushing his hand through the water. He leans back up and takes off his boots, kicking them gently aside on the dock.
I come up closer and run my hands up his back and over his shoulders until he turns around to face me fully. I press my body into his, letting my fingertips dance on the sides of his neck as I take him into a ravenous kiss. He kisses me back with the same passion and then pulls away, looking down into my eyes.