Clarity (27 page)

Nathan had kept me as far away from
Willow
as possible when I showed up on his doorstep. Despite constantly telling myself that she was helping us, despite Nathan’s reminders that she couldn’t help herself, I could never forget what she had done to my father. I could never forget that she had tasted the blood of two of my favourite people.

The atmosphere in the house was strange. Amelia was still sick. She wasn’t even fully aware of what was happening. I was in a place my dad had forbidden me from visiting, and all of the werewolves were acting completely different. Jeremy was positively light on his feet in anticipation, and I was glad he hadn’t been around much to influence Nathan. Ryan’s eyes had turned colder as he prepared to maim, but he caught my glance and gave me a half-smile. I trusted him. I couldn’t tell why, but I knew he was on our side. And he could keep
Willow
in line, so we definitely needed him. Byron stayed close to Nathan, and I sensed something between them, like a new-found connection.

Our goodbye was hard. My heart felt as though it might shatter in my chest. He could get hurt, and the way he kissed me felt as though he wasn’t coming back, as though I was losing something. I couldn’t shake the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I tried to be strong for him.

I couldn’t watch them walk away, but I realised I could see most of the grassy area outside from Amelia’s bedroom window, and I knew with certainty that I couldn’t ignore what was happening out there. Armed with water, snacks, and a pack of wolfhounds, I tried to get comfortable.

I debated shaking Amelia to wake her, but I couldn’t do it. I wanted the company, but it was better if she slept through all of the excitement. I heard the others leave and moved to sit at the window,
Cú
by my side. I watched them divide up and hide away. I couldn’t believe the tactic would work. After all, the other wolves were more attuned to their stronger senses. Then again, the area was already well-marked by Nathan’s family, and that could confuse the other werewolves.

Willow
had guessed the wolves would come at dusk, but Ryan wasn’t sure. That meant we all had to wait. After who knew how many minutes of staring outside, I felt my stomach churning. I decided to snack on some chocolate. I had only taken one bite when a moan came from Amelia. She tossed about in her bed, and I hesitated, trying to remember if you were supposed to wake someone up from a bad dream or not.

She sat up straight, her eyes wide with fear. As her gaze fell on me, I saw no recognition there.

“Give me back my baby,” she hissed in an accent I didn’t recognize.

“Um, are you okay?”

She blinked rapidly, and her expression shifted. “
Perdita
?” she asked in a little girl’s voice.

I hurried over and sat next to her. “You need to see a doctor. You’re practically delirious.”

“No,” she said. “No, I’m not. They’re memories,
Perdita
. I’m sure of it. I think I’m dreaming about how it all began for my family. Everything we know is a lie.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, anything to prolong telling her it was time for the werewolves to come. “So how does that change things for us?”

She frowned. “It doesn’t. Not really.”

“So why would anyone lie about it?”

She shook her head, looking muddled. “I’ve no idea. But it’s important the lies stop.”

“Amelia, you need some rest. Why don’t you go back to sleep?” I pushed her back and pulled the covers over her.

Her eyes closed for a couple of seconds before flinging back open. “Wait! Why are you here?”

I fidgeted with the blanket. “It’s time. They’re coming. We’re locked in with the dogs. Just in case.”

“It’s now? Oh, no. I wanted to see my family first. In case… well, you know.”

I nodded. Unfortunately, I knew exactly what she meant. I really didn’t want to know. I really didn’t want to have the knowledge that people had already died, and more people could easily die.

“I think it’ll be okay this time,” I said. “They have more on their side, and they know what’s coming. It’ll be over as soon as it starts. In fact, I’m going to watch out the window while you get some rest.”

“Will you tell me if you see anything?”

“Of course.” I moved back to the window.

Amelia sat up, calling one of the dogs onto the bed. Her grandmother’s old wolfhound jumped up and settled in, her large head on Amelia’s lap.

“I wish we could know for sure,” she muttered.

I tried to ignore her. Her sickness, whatever it was, was making her act strangely, and I felt pretty uncomfortable around her. I frowned at the window. I thought I saw something, a movement in the distance. Amelia’s window faced the back of the house. Beyond the back garden, trees and overgrowth badly needed to be cut. I was sure something had moved back there. Staring hard, I saw nothing else and figured I must have imagined it. But
Cú
changed my mind.

The wolfhound pressed up against my leg, a growl rumbling in his throat. I patted his head, knowing he sensed something. The wolfhounds were in tune somehow with the werewolves. They knew a lot more than the average pet. I knew
Cú
was giving a warning, and I hoped he was growling at something outside. In fact, I hadn’t even thought about what I would do if the werewolves got into the house and came for us.

I hadn’t liked to follow that train of thought because there was only one way that would happen. Nathan would never let the werewolves past him if he could help it. Still staring out the window, I heard Amelia murmur behind me. I would have given anything to be anywhere else. Her mutters were freaking me out.

Amelia cried out harshly, as if in pain, and I almost fell over
Cú
trying to get to her. Her face was deathly pale, and sweat trickled freely down her forehead.

“Are you okay?”

She shook her head vehemently before doubling over as if in pain. “I can’t take much more of this,” she hissed. “It hurts, everything hurts. And I can’t sleep without dreaming of pain and worse things. I feel as though I’m on fire.”

“It’ll be okay,” I said. “We’ll figure something out.”

She groaned. “There’s nothing to figure out. I’m supposed to do something.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone’s trying to tell me something, I think. Like this is a… a punishment, or a warning, or something. I don’t know. I feel like I’m being haunted or something.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Is it really that bad?”

She nodded glumly, twisting her bracelet in agitation.

“There has to be something we can do to make it better,” I said. “Maybe doing a reading might help.”

“Tarot cards? You must really pity me.” She choked out a laugh.

“I’m still your friend. If that makes you feel better, then I’m cool with it. We’re sitting around here waiting anyway. What do we have to lose?”

“What if we don’t use the cards?” She bit her lip, hesitating. “What if we use something else instead?”

“Like what?”

“Spirit board?”

My stomach flipped a little. I might not believe, but something about those boards sent warning bells off in my head. It didn’t seem right to contact the dead, or even to try to contact them.

“We could try to talk to Mémère,” she continued eagerly. “Maybe she can tell us if we’re safe or not.”

I squirmed in my seat. “I don’t know…”

“Come on! What harm could it do? It would make me feel better.” She gave me those puppy dog eyes, and I knew I wouldn’t say no. She took my hesitation for acquiescence and jumped out of the bed. She flew around the room, taking candles out of drawers and setting crystals in a ring on the table. “For protection,” she said solemnly.

“Protection from what?” My voice turned high at the end, but she ignored my obvious reluctance.

She scrambled under the bed. “I found the board hidden in my grandparents’ room.”

“Well, maybe it was hidden for a reason.”

She climbed back out, still pale and sweating, but carrying the board reverently in both hands. I wasn’t sure why I was nervous about the innocuous-looking piece of wood, but my head couldn’t seem to get through to my heart.

She laid the board inside the ring of crystals and lit candles all around it. A draught blew out the flames. Ominous, I thought. But Amelia simply relit them all, lay a cup on the board, and bade me to lay my fingers on the upside down cup along with hers.

“Mémère? Can you hear me? Please, please, please talk to me. I need you right now. Can you see us?” The desperation in her voice gave me a physical ache. I hadn’t been there for her enough, I realised.

The cup moved, then jerked to a stop. I glared at Amelia. “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t me.” Her chest heaved, and with a sinking sensation, it dawned on me that she was telling the truth.

“Crap,” I whispered.

“Mémère? Is that you?”

The cup moved to no.

“Maybe we should stop this,” I said, almost pleadingly.
Cú
kept growling, and I knew I was missing something outside, but Amelia didn’t seem to notice.

“No. I need this. Who are you?”

The cup moved again, spelling out the word
you
.

“What the hell does that mean?” I blurted, intrigued despite myself.

“I have no idea,” she muttered. “Can you help us?”

Yes
.

Amelia grinned at me triumphantly, but a bead of sweat trickled down her cheek.

“Are we in danger?” I asked.

Yes
.

“From who?” Amelia said.

You
.

“Stop saying that!” she yelled. Books fell from the shelves, making us both jump.

Dreams
.

“What about them?” she asked, calmer.

Truth
.

“They’re the truth?” I whispered, confused.

Past
.

“The dreams are real?” Amelia sounded shocked, even though she had speculated about the possibility.

Yes
.

“What do they mean? Why am I having them?”

The cup moved faster, so fast I could barely keep up.

Cursed. Broken. Freedom
.

“How? How do I break it?”

Fulfill
curse. Take destiny. Free me
.

Amelia nodded.

“What does that mean?” I hissed at her.

“I think I know,” she said hesitantly.

The cup moved rapidly, sliding across the board without slowing.

Seventh daughter of seventh daughter
.

Amelia stared hard at the board.

Broke the line
.

The windows rattled in their frames.

Change
.

“I get it,” she said. “It’s like the dream. I have to accept the path. If I say yes, then it’s done? It’s over?”

Yes
.

“I’ll do it. I say yes.”

“Amelia, what the hell is going on?”

The candles all blew out. The windows opened, then slammed themselves shut. I pulled my hands away from the cup and inched from the table. “Amelia?”

A swirling white breeze resembling a miniature whirlwind spun into the room and enveloped Amelia. She spread her arms, a strange look on her face, and inhaled the whirlwind. It dove inside her, turning her eyeballs white. The force of the wind lifted her into the air.

Before I could get to her, she was thrown to the floor. “Amelia?”

I checked her pulse.

Nothing.

Then she gasped. Her eyes were closed and her breathing heavy. That pasty, pale look had worsened, and the heat of her skin scared me. I didn’t know what to do, but I guessed her ailment was supernatural. Her body jerked nastily. I imagined I could hear her bones cracking and breaking inside her.

I seized the cup again. “What’s happening to her?”

Run
.

All of the dogs whined in unison. I couldn’t help Amelia. I didn’t even know what was going on. So I ran for help.

I unlocked the door and sprinted from the house, following the path Nathan and the others had taken. I heard a shrill scream, but kept running, ignoring the sudden growling and howls of pain behind me. I didn’t look back.

“Help!”

Nathan took one look and ran toward me, leaving the rest of the werewolves behind. My stomach heaved, but I couldn’t think about that. I just knew Amelia’s family had to hurry. I heard the wolfhounds behind me, all of them whimpering.

To my surprise, Nathan skidded to a stop just before he reached me, his family following closely. The shock on their faces made me pause. I turned around slowly. A chocolate brown wolf ran from the house, straight for me, ferociously baring its fangs.

“Amelia?” I whispered, unable to believe it. Then, the rip came, an almighty tearing in my heart.