Bad Storm (2 page)

Something was off with me and Sierra knew it. But thanks to
whatever strange magic Nick had performed on her, she didn’t know quite why.
She didn’t remember me running off with Aamir, just the tour ending. Just
enough for me being back home with her to make sense.

So it was impossible for me to explain to her why things
between Trent and I were so irrevocably weird.

“Just go over there and say hi,” she said. “Talk to him
enough, and I’m sure he’ll dump Lola,” she said as she searched the fridge for
something to eat. I took a sip of my coffee and stared at my bright yellow
scrambled eggs, still trying to will myself to eat them.

“Um…yeah. That would be less complicated if they didn’t live
together,” I said.

She came over to the table with a Red Bull and a piece of
buttered toast. “Ew,” I laughed, “you’re so weird.”

“I have to do groceries, so sue me,” she grinned, popping
open the tab of her energy drink. It made a strange hissing noise, and a sweet
and sour smell filled the air.

“You can have my food, you know you don’t need to ask,” I
laughed, wrinkling my nose.

“You know I don’t care. It all comes out the other end
anyway.” she winked before throwing back the Red Bull.

“You should be a nutritionist,” I teased.

“You should talk. You haven’t even touched your breakfast,
and that’s the most important meal of the day,” she said with a playful grin.

“Yeah well, I’ve had a hard time eating since Lola
confronted us. I mean, it was totally within her right to do so too, I was the
other woman,” I grimaced, remembering with a sickening jolt how things had gone
in Trent’s room.

“It’s always one way or the other with you. Either you can’t
eat, or you clean out the fridge. Personally, I prefer the latter because then
we get to go out and buy tons of ‘replacement’ ice cream.”

“Sierra, c’mon, I’m seriously depressed,” I said, unable to
fight the small smile. She was probably the funniest person I knew, so it was
hard for me to stay in a bad mood when she was around.

“Okay, okay. I know you want to wallow. Let’s go see a really
sad movie, like one of those romantic ones that end badly. We can bring our own
tissues and sneak in pre-made popcorn in Ziploc baggies.”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. As much fun as that would sound
normally, I didn’t think I had it in me to go out that night. What if we ran
into someone we knew? Then I would have to have an awkward conversation where I
lied about how I was doing well. That was always weird.

“Or we could stay in and watch a movie,” Sierra offered, as
if she read my mind. I kind of wished she could. I felt a small pang of guilt
as I remembered how I couldn’t share the majority of what was going on with
her.

“Okay,” I said, and she reached across the table, her palm
facing upwards. I put my hand into hers, and she squeezed it before getting up
from the table, her toast in one hand and the empty can in the other.

“It’ll be awesome. I’m going to my mom’s house for a bit,
but I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah.” I lifted the fork to my mouth and forcing myself to
take a bite. She gobbled down her own food like a total slob and tossed her can
to the recycling bin, turning away before she could see it hitting the floor.
For some reason, her absent-mindedness was suddenly endearing. The little
things that might usually make me roll my eyes comforted me. Sierra was someone
I could rely on, even when everything else around me was changing.

“Catch you later, and try not to mope so hard,” Sierra
teased, ruffling my hair as she passed by me on my way out.

Even though she didn’t have the slightest idea about what
was really going on with me, she had a point. Feeling shitty about my life
wasn’t doing anything for me. I forced half of the scrambled eggs down my
throat and finished my coffee before it got cold.

I was running a list of all the things I could get done that
day (clean the bathroom, fix up my resume, call my old boss at the coffee shop
to see if they had a summer opening), when my phone went off in my room.

The caller I.D. Said Nick, and my heart dropped. Anything he
had to tell me couldn’t be good.

“Hello?” I said wearily.

“Bailey, it’s me, Nick.”

“I know Nick,” I sighed. Nick was so weird about things like
technology—it was like he didn’t much care for it. He could look at the
caller I.D. everyday of his life and could still forget that we all have it.

“I think we should get together and talk a few things over.”

“Okay,” I said, trying not to let the trepidation come
through the phone.

‘
This is good. This is
what you need right? A good talk with the demon-in-chief
.’

“Where should we meet?” I said.

“Well, I would invite you over…but emotions are high over
here. Why don’t I meet you at your place?”

“Sounds good,” I said, wincing as I imagined Lola’s nasty
face. At least with all the distance between us, I couldn’t feel her
anger.
 
“When do you want to come
over?”

“Now would be good.”

“Alright, see you soon.”

“Yes, see you soon.”

“God, he’s so awkward,” I mumbled to myself, getting to my
feet to take my dishes to the sink. I fixed my hair and put on some deodorant,
but didn’t even have time to change out of my PJs before I heard him knocking
at the door.

“Jesus.” I opened the door to see Nick, his dreads pulled
back in a rubber band and his pants neatly pressed. Even his dark skin looked
magnificent, as if he were incredibly well rested. I envied him for a moment,
sure I looked a mess in my pink pajama pants and with dark circles under my
eyes.

“Come on in,” I said, stepping back and moving behind the
door.

“Thanks.” He scanned the apartment. He had never been there
before, so I wondered briefly what he thought about our place. There was a
 
pile by the couch where I shamelessly
dumped anything Sierra left laying about, praying for the day she’d pick it up.
But I was sure I’d have to pick it up and put it in the room for her, like I
had done time and time again.

Other than that, the apartment was fairly clean. Most of our
decor was older, but we lovingly called it vintage since the best we could
afford came from Goodwill. There were prints of birds and landscapes in wooden
frames on the wall, and even an old Spice Girls poster we found at a garage
sale.

“This is a fun place you got,” Nick said, his voice
pleasant, but his blank expression didn’t change.

“Um, thanks. Want anything to drink?”

“No thank you. Can we go out to the porch?” he asked,
nodding towards the sliding door in the kitchen that lead outside.

“Yeah, sure,” I said. It was hot out, but I wasn’t about to
fight him on it. We had pretty good shade out there and a fan, so I figured I
could just grin and bear it.

Outside was as hot as I had predicted, so I turned on the
fan and sat in the plastic chair, pulling it back towards the apartment so that
I sat under the shade of the eaves. Down below I could see our neighbor walking
across the green lawn from the pool back to his place. She looked up and waved.
I smiled and waved back.

“So, what’s up?” He looked out at the lawn and seemed
hesitant to speak. “Don’t worry, it’s hard for anyone to hear us up here. I
mean, unless my neighbor decides to go out on her porch.” I said, nodding over
to her balcony.

He nodded in understanding. “Bailey…so much has gone on in
the last few days, and I’m sorry you got caught up in it all.”

I shrugged, avoiding his eyes. It was true, but I didn’t
want to lead on to how affected I was by it all. “I mean, it’s not like you
could control anything.”

He sighed. “But I should have been more aware of your
tensions with Trent. If I were, I could have prevented what happened.”

I knew he was talking about the imprinting. I wondered
suddenly if he actually could have stopped it. “Are you…I mean, can you sense
things like the rest of the pack?”

“No,” he shook his head. “That would be convenient, but
that’s a bond that’s exclusive to shifter packs. I have to rely on my own
intuition, and it failed me.”

“Oh,” I said, letting the information sink in. A bird flew
past us and landed in a nearby tree, dropping a twig into a nest. “Still, I
don’t blame you. You’re not in charge of me, and it was partly my fault too.”

“It’s true. But I need you to understand that now you are my
responsibility. Your bond with Trent makes you a part of the pack, in a way.
And I need to protect any human that’s involved with any one of them.”

“Is there a way for me to…I don’t know,
not
be a part of it?” I asked, my voice small. I didn’t want Trent
to know what I was feeling. After I left yesterday, confused and filled with
all kinds of conflicting emotions, I couldn’t help but wonder how much of what
was going on with me Trent could perceive. So far I didn’t have any more
visions concerning him, but he was actually a werewolf. Maybe his senses were
keener.

Maybe he knew what I was saying to Nick at that very moment.

“No,” Nick sighed. He was so stoic, watching the bird as it
arranged the small twig. I wondered briefly about his life, his story.

“You could ignore it if you want to, but the bond will
always be there. Every time you’re near him, you’ll feel it. Every time he’s
hurt, or you’re in danger, you’ll know.”

“So…will I see the little things?” I asked, folding my hands
in my lap as I took deep breath.

“No, not unless he tells you. Mind reading is kind of a
tricky gift—you have to really be careful not to abuse it, because the
mind is a sacred, private space. And now you can communicate with the whole
pack, so you really have to be judicious with when you use it.”

I imagined myself trying to live a life where I could
communicate mentally with Trent,
 
where I could sense his hurt and danger,
and I denied it.

“So I have no choice,” I said quietly. Nick turned to look
at me, and he gave me a sympathetic look.

“In a way, you don’t,” he said. “But I also know that Trent
doesn’t want you to have to be with him.”

“Yeah.” A hollow laugh escaping my lips. “Trust me, that’s
no secret.”

“He wants to protect you from what he is.”

“Yeah, he also wants to protect me from guys in general,” I
sighed. “Sorry, that’s not your problem, and that’s not why you came here.”

“Well,” Nick started, a small crease forming in his brow.
“In a way, it sort of is. I wanted to talk to you about Fun Aim. Specifically
about Aamir.”

“What do you know about him?” I could feel the warm locket
pressing against my thigh through my flannel pants. I had slept with it for
some reason—it called to me in a weird way, and provided comfort. Even if
I wasn’t thinking about Aamir, it’s presence was calming, intoxicating even.

“I happen to know a lot about the Veisi. They’re a very
important family around these parts.”

“The…who?” I asked.

“That’s his last name,” Nick said, giving me a funny look.
At least he didn’t laugh at me, because I totally deserved that. How close did
I let myself get to this guy I hardly even knew?

“Oh, right,” I said, blushing.

“You see Bailey, Aamir’s part of a group called the
Neo-Knights of Cyrus. And Aamir has some powers of his own, I guess you were
made aware of that. At least, that’s what Trent told me. It was hard to get the
unbiased truth out of him.”

“Yeah, he’s an empath,” I rolled my eyes at the mention of
Trent. Of course he would be so stubborn. “And I know that the girl, Gita,
she’s a nymph. That’s pretty much all I understand. I don’t even really know
what being a nymph entails. Except that she can really mess me up, obviously.”
I cringed at the memory.

“Well, nymphs and empaths have a very special relationships.
At least, in that cult they do.”

“Cult?” He read the shock on my face and raised a hand as if
to calm me.

“I just mean a marginal, religious sect. Although I’m sure
Trent would refer to it in the derogatory sense,” he said with a small smile.
“See, the Neo-Knights of Cyrus carry a tradition over from the Middle East, and
their reigning leader is Aamir’s father, the High Priest Farzad Veiri. Like
many empaths, they see their role as protectors of the weak.”

“Like you?” I asked.

Nick’s face fell a little bit. “Not quiet. At least, they
wouldn’t appreciate the comparison. You see, they exclusively protect
innocents. To them, people like myself and the pack…well, we’re impure. We’re
filled with dark magic.”

“But that nymph girl performed dark magic, didn’t she? She
wanted to kill me!” I nearly yelled, and the bird in its nest fluttered away,
cawing in fright.

“I would agree with you. But for them, dark magic is magic
that makes monsters—werewolves, vampires, faes, demons. Anything that
changes a human.”

“But I don’t understand…they’re not corrupted by dark magic?
Whatever they do is definitely not ‘normal’ human behavior.”

“Agreed, but it goes back to their mythology. The Veiri are
just one of a number of families, Persian and otherwise, who believe that the
birth of impurity came when the Akkadian god of plague, Erra, brought destruction
and turmoil upon the world. He traveled to Babylon to defeat his ‘enemies,’ but
in the process everything was thrown into chaos and the innocent were killed
along with the guilty. For the Neo-Knights, this is when evil embodied flesh,
and non-human creatures like werewolves and demons roamed free as Erra’s
soldiers. Even when Erra’s reign ended, his evil lived on through them. They
believe that Cyrus the Great, the Persian king, brought with him great men,
scholars and soldiers, that could fight these beasts. And when Alexander the
Great took over, the Greek nymphs followed, promising to help the Knights of
Cyrus harness the power of nature if they would in turn use that magic to make
them human.”