Seduced by Lies (2 page)

Rose squeezed my hand and smiled, her hazel eyes bright with a nearly undetectable golden glow that hadn't been there before she claimed her full witch power and had been cleansed of the demon power that threatened to destroy anyone she touched. "That makes sense," she said. "Why don't we call it The School for the Gifted?"

Ocean faked an exaggerated yawn at her best friend. "Because, boring. That's why."

"How about Save-A-Kid?" Drake suggested. "You know, 'cause we used to be Rent-A-Kid, and now—"

"No, Drake." Sam shook her head, rolling her eyes at her husband. "Just. No."

"What about Power School?" I proposed.

Ocean gagged. "Are we training Power Rangers?"

"You have a better idea, smarty pants?" The back and forth teasing with Ocean had been par for the course. She'd slipped into little sister category, since she and Rose were practically raised together as sisters.

Ocean grinned. "Sure do. Witches and Shifter Paranormals. Or W.A.S.P. We can call ourselves Wasps."

"Because we're all rich white protestants?" Okay, maybe given my family wealth I wasn't the best person to poke holes in that acronym, but still.

Ocean's grin dropped from her face. "Oh right, that's already taken, isn't it? What does it stand for again?"

Sam smiled. "White Anglo-Saxon Protestants. And besides, we're not all witches or shifters. Most of us are just paranormals."

Just paranormals? I fought the urge to laugh at that. As if mind reading was
just
a little thing, nothing of consequence. Not to mention all the other powers this group commanded.

"Let's keep trying." Father Patrick sipped his tea, his fluff of white hair more disheveled than usual, dark circles more prominent under his eyes. "We'll find a good name."

Curtis, who'd been quiet so far, spoke up. "How about Elysium?" He looked out the window as a crow flew by. "A place where all are welcome."

I knew he was thinking of Tyler, but still. "That's not entirely true, though. Not
everyone
is welcome here."

Curtis frowned, looking at me. "What do you mean, Derek?"

I thought back to my courtship of Rose, the power struggle in her coven, how her coven-leader mother turned on her and tried to make her a demon sacrifice for more power, how they attacked my clan trying to take the rose bush that held the power of our people. "I've known a few witches and shifters. Not all were nice," I said. "We can't accept someone just because they have powers."

"But then, where would they go?" Curtis asked, his face an open book of kindness and empathy.

I shrugged off his question. "I don't know. If they can't get along with people, then maybe they don't deserve to be here."

"I have trouble getting along with people," Curtis said. "A lot of people want nothing to do with me. Does that mean I shouldn't be welcome here?"

"No. Of course not, but—"

"Please." Father Patrick held up his hands. "Let's stay focused on the task at hand. We can hammer out school policy in another meeting." He looked down at a piece of paper he'd been holding. "So far we have School for the Gifted, Save-A-Kid, Power School, W.A.S.P and Elysium."

"I'd like to add Olympus," I said. "An elite school for those who are gifted."
Because that's exactly what we are.

"Isn't Olympus like Ancient Greek Heaven?" Ocean asked.

"No," Curtis said. "Elysium is Greek Heaven. Olympus is the place of their gods."

Drake shuffled in his seat. "Well, I still like Save-A-Kid."

Someone knocked on the door once, briskly, then walked in. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but you need to see what's on the news right now." Desirai, a petite girl who could see into people's dreams—and cause some pretty hair-raising nightmares if the rumors were true—walked to the television console, opened it to find the remote, then turned it on.

A female newscaster with perfect hair and face, dressed in an appropriately professional suit, did the sad smile they do when reporting on bad news.
"This is the third wild animal attack in Thurston County this week, and officials have no leads on the wolf responsible. The victim, 23-year-old Jared Barley, was mountain biking and had stopped to fix his tire when he was attacked. He had enough presence of mind to call 9-1-1 but by the time medics arrived he had died."

Desirai turned the volume down while we stared in shock at each other. An image of the young man, smiling and happy, flashed on the screen and Curtis' face went white.

Sam turned to him, her eyes sad. What did she hear in his mind? Was he thinking of Tyler?

Desirai looked at us expectantly. "Another wolf attack in the same week? This isn't how wolves behave."

I knew that better than anyone, and the thought sickened me. "What if it's not a wolf?" Maybe Mrs. Kirkly had been right. Maybe a paranormal had killed her son.

Rose turned her face to me, eyes wide. "A shifter?"

"It's possible," I said. "We're not the only ones. I'll look into it and see what I can find out." If it
was
a shifter, this could bring problems to my family, my clan.

Father Patrick creased his lips. "I'm sure it's nothing, but yes, best cover all our bases."

Curtis, his face still too pale, cleared his throat. "I know the last victim. Jared. He's my cousin. We used to go to school together, before I came here. We were on the football team together. I can't believe… "

I locked eyes with Curtis. He knew two of the three victims.

“There’s more,” Curtis said.

I knew what he was going to say, or at least suspected.

“My cousin was a paranormal. He didn’t want anyone knowing, not his family, not anyone. He refused to come here, refused to come out of the closet as it were.”

Rose reached across the table and laid a hand on his. Her eyes glowed golden, her new power filling the room with warmth. A tear fell down her cheek. "I'm so sorry.”

Curtis squeezed her hand and nodded. “The thing is, I just got a visit from Tyler’s mother, a kid I was recruiting for our school. He was a paranormal too, and his body was discovered this morning. His dad said it was an animal attack.”

The room went quiet as the ramifications of this news settled on us all.

Sam, who was likely reading everyone’s mind, broke the silence, looking at each of us. “You all think it’s deliberate? That someone is targeting paranormals? Killing paranormals?”

I didn’t have to read her mind to know her first thought was Ana, her child. And I knew we were all thinking about our school, a prime target for someone who was going after kids with paranormal abilities.

“We should call IPI,” Ocean said. IPI, or International Paranormal Investigations, was a top-secret agency that helped, and hunted, paranormals, depending on the circumstance. They were tasked with keeping law-abiding paranormals safe, and normals safe from more dangerous paranormals. Ocean had been recruited by them, but hadn’t left for her training yet.

Father Patrick shook his head. “Not yet. We know from past experience they won’t respond unless it’s pressing. And their idea of pressing and ours doesn’t always mesh. Plus, this is all circumstantial evidence.” He looked at Curtis. “I’m so sorry, son. Would you be willing to talk with your family and find out if they know anything? And maybe stop by the home of this other victim? Once we have more information, we can file a report.”

“If you'd like company, I could go with you to talk to both families,” Rose said. “Maybe I can help bring some healing, and we can see if they know more about what happened?"

Rose used to fear her power, a dark energy that sucked the life from others, sending souls to the equivalent of hell. My brother and I had experienced that fate, and she'd risked everything to come to a hideous demon dimension and save us. Now, in a twist of fate that finally got it right, and thanks to the sacrifice of a man I'll never like but can at least respect, she can use her powers for emotional healing.

As others offered Curtis condolences, Father Patrick ended our meeting with promises to resume the search for a name after these issues had been investigated.

Everyone shuffled into the hallway as students ran to their classes and teachers shouted to slow down. If not for the power each student here carried inside of them, it would look like a normal private school.

Rose was deep in conversation with Curtis as they walked out, but I stayed back to talk to Father Patrick. Once we were alone, I turned to face the old priest. "What's troubling you, Father?" Something had instigated this meeting and his nervous twitching.

He looked about to brush me off, but then sighed and gestured for me to sit with him.

I pulled out the chair and sat, waiting for him to speak.

"I received a letter," he said, "from the Vatican. They're sending a Bishop here."

This was not what I was expecting. "Why?" Father Patrick may have been a priest, but we didn't run anything close to a Catholic School.

He shrugged. "I don't know. But I worry. This school was set up to save these kids from an evil organization bent on genetically modifying them and renting them out as spies to the wealthy."

I'd heard the stories and still couldn't believe it. Sam's biological father had genetically modified babies on a global scale, collecting them and keeping them prisoner at their school. It was only when Sam, Drake and their friends discovered the truth that they destroyed the organization and gained their freedom. But Sam had already been impregnated with Ana against her knowledge and will. They'd still found a way to get their happily ever after, but had suffered so much to get here.

"What do the Catholic Church and the Vatican have to do with it?" I asked.

"They have quite a lot to do with it, my boy." He wiped at his eyes with a white handkerchief. "If they don't like what they see, they have the power to take this place away from us. And in light of recent events, if it is a shifter or paranormal creature killing these kids, they may take away much more."

That it should come to this!

— William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Dear Diary,

The dreams are becoming more intense, more real every night. Animals growing inside of me, taking me over as I become not just wolf, but deer. The hunter and the hunted. Last night, though, was the first time I flew. My body shrunk, stretched, morphed into that of a great eagle, and I took to the sky. The wind sang to me, guiding me as my wings pumped hard, each feather attuned to every current of air surrounding me.

It was heady, exciting, intoxicating. I didn’t want it to end.

Then panic hit. I couldn’t land, couldn’t find anything solid to gain a foothold. The world had turned to air, and I was forever forced to flap my wings, soaring until I could do it no longer. Then.

Then I spent forever falling into nothing.

I NEVER TIRED
of running through the woods with my husband—never tired of calling Derek O'Conner my husband for that matter. He'd told me about the visit from the Vatican, about what it could mean for us, and so we ran. To release frustration and fear, to feel the power of the hunt coursing through us, to forget human worries and embrace the instincts of our wolf natures.

Derek had grown up with this, had spent his youth shifting into a wolf, running through the wild. I'd only embraced this life the night of our wedding, and it still amazed me.

All my senses were heightened in wolf form. Although as a human I was stronger, faster, more attuned to the world around me than the average person, it was nothing compared to being a wolf, to feeling my padded paws digging into the fresh earth, the sun on my back warming my fur, the world changing around me, coming alive with a new vibrancy humans could never begin to understand.

Between this and my new witch powers, I'd had a lot to adapt to, a lot to learn. No wonder I'd been having dreams and nightmares.

When the world had disappeared and we were no longer in danger of being stumbled upon by curious students, we halted in a clearing by a lake, shifting back into human form as we basked in the sun.

Derek rolled to his side and ran his hand down the length of my naked body, his rough palms grazing my hard nipples and dipping between my legs, teasing my center. 

My mind was still turned inward, still part wolf as my body responded to his. My legs spread, the summer sun warming my most intimate parts as he positioned himself over me.

"Rose, you have no idea how beautiful you are." His voice was low and gravelly. His blue eyes brightly contrasted against his tan skin and dark hair.

I stroked his chest, the muscles hard and flexed, tracing lines over his black tribal tattoos. "You're not so bad yourself."

My body ached for him, as it always did. For too long we couldn't touch for fear of my power, but now we were free to explore each other and we never missed an opportunity to do so.

I moaned as Derek spread me further, scooting down to slide his tongue inside me.

Pleasure pulsed in me, winding tight in my belly as he licked and sucked, his fingers pushing in and out, until I screamed like an animal, coming so hard I kicked at him.

He held my legs down, drawing out the orgasm, then slamming his cock into me as my pussy squeezed him with each thrust.

Nails digging into his back, I begged for more. Faster. Harder. I still liked it rough, even if I didn't need it to control my power. I enjoyed walking that edge between pleasure and pain.

My body, lost in our wild passion, bucked and then froze.

Panic seized me.

Derek withdrew, holding me in his arms, his eyes wide with fear. "Rose. What's wrong? Rose?"

I couldn't speak.

Couldn't answer.

It felt like I was shifting into wolf, but that shouldn't be happening. Sweating, hot and cold, shivering and dying inside, I latched on to my humanity.

Images of other animals danced through my mind as my body tried to morph into them.

"No!" I screamed, clinging to my husband, until my muscles relaxed, the panic releasing me.

I slumped into his arms, crying as he stroked my hair.

"What happened, Rose? What was that?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. Maybe I'm still learning to control my shifting."

We lay together, all lustful thoughts gone, with my head on his chest, his heartbeat soothing me.

"Derek?"

"Hmm?"

"Why can we only shift into wolf? Why not other animals, if we're shifters?"

Derek's body tensed under me. "We just don't. It's dangerous to try. Dangerous to even think about."

"But it's possible?" My dreams haunted me, and I had to know where they came from.

"It's not done. Let's just drop it, okay?"

"Okay."

The mood broken, Derek sat up. "We should get back. You've got a class to teach soon."

He felt distant, moody, but I didn't understand what I'd done to piss him off.

We shifted back to wolves, the process simple for me—nothing like what I'd just gone through—and ran back to the mansion with little joy this time.

"Who has a template ready to show me?" I asked the small class. Seven students sat in overstuffed chairs and couches with their laptops perched on their knees. "Remember, we're focusing on the basics of web design. We'll get to the fancy stuff later, but first get the structure of your page done. If your core coding is solid, the bells and whistles are much easier to add."

Sally raised her hand and turned her screen so I could see the site on world peace she'd created. It was a clever idea, a way to unite paranormals and regulars. I wasn't sure the world was ready to be that accepting, but I still encouraged her. "Looks good." I point to one section of coding. "You've got an open tag here that you need to close, but otherwise it's looking great."

Outside our door, a young male voiced yelled. My students fidgeted in their seats, but I held up my hand. "I'll see what's going on. Keep working on your websites."

I pushed open the door and walked down the hallway where three men stood, a senior graduating this year, and Curtis and his boyfriend Paul, two recent graduates who had stayed on to help and continue with their own paranormal training. Harry, the senior, sneered at Curtis. "Get a room, fag."

"Don't you kiss your girlfriend in the hallways?" Curtis asked.

"My
girl
friend," Harry said. "But neither of you are girls."

"No." Curtis held Paul's hand. "And is there anything wrong with that?"

Harry scowled at them. "It's fucking weird."

Curtis gestured around him, his hand moving so fast it blurred. "Aren't we all weird?"

Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

Curtis kept his voice level, disarming. "Don't we all do things that people would consider weird—unnatural even? I have super speed. You can heat up whatever you touch. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Harry grabbed Curtis by the collar. "There's nothing wrong with me."

Paul raised a fist.

"No," Curtis said. "Leave him be. There's nothing wrong with you, Harry. There's nothing wrong with any of us."

Harry let Curtis go and walked away. "Just leave me alone, fags."

"Are you okay?" I asked, getting to them too late to help.

Curtis straightened his shirt and smiled. "Of course."

Paul didn't look as calm, his handsome face hard with anger. "You should have let me punch him."

"No." Curtis shook his head. "I'm no better than Harry. I've been a bully before, making someone feel bad for being different."

My eyes widened in surprise. "You? Why?"

Curtis shrugged. "I was scared of who I was, of being different, so I took it out on others. I don't think that deserves to be punished."

I checked my watched. Class would be ending soon. "I'll have to tell Father Patrick about this. He can't treat you this way." I laid a hand on his arm. "But I'm proud of you for handling it the way you did. I'm glad you and Paul chose to stay after graduation. These kids need more people like you."

"Thank you." Curtis picked up his backpack. "Are we still going tonight?"

"Yes." I said. "I'll meet you out front after classes."

Paul turned to him, still frowning. "But, we still have to decide—"

"Do what you must," Curtis said, not unkindly. "I know what I want, Paul. I love you." He kissed Paul and walked down the hall with me.

"Is everything okay between you two?" I asked him.

"Yes, thanks." He sighed. "Paul just… Paul needs to decide if he's ready."

"Ready?"

"To let the world know about us."