The Waking (The Upturned Hourglass) (30 page)

“All the stories I’d heard of werewolves said that they changed back with the rising of the sun. That was what I was counting on. I ran home, knowing my mother had no choice but to believe my story; she’d seen proof of it herself.

“I’d been correct when I’d assumed I would transform back into a boy at dawn. That transformation was much less painful, though my skin still felt horribly foreign to me. I stole some clothes from a local vendor and ran toward home. I was faster, I knew. I sped past trafficked cars at break-neck speed. The crowded sidewalk, scattered with floods of people, seemed almost easy to maneuver as my reflexes had improved. When I reached the apartment, I was barely winded, and even that was more from nervousness and a tight chest than from exhaustion. I knocked on the door repeatedly, having left my key on my dresser. Finally I tested my newfound strength. I broke off the doorknob and pushed in the door. What I found was terrible and terrifying.

“My mother had left. She had packed her and Emily’s things and taken off. The drawers were still open, hanging awkwardly from their dressers. The lights were on, though the sunlight was now streaming in. Clothes were strewn about the place as they never had been before. The stove was still on, though it was bare. As I clicked the stove’s dial to the off position, it finally hit me. I’d been abandoned. My mother had stolen away my sister, my best friend in the world, to run from me; from
me
, her own flesh and blood. I stared down at my hands for hours, leaning against the still-warm side of the oven until all heat fled, until I felt cold and dead inside. Everything I’d known was gone. The only choice I had was to turn to the outstretched hand of Isaac. I sought him in the woods the next day and joined his pack.

“I know why she did it, of course.” He added like an afterthought, an excuse for those who had betrayed him. “She wanted to take care of Emily and herself.  They did what was best for
themselves.”

Valie sat speechless.

This boy—that had been preaching to her about trust from the beginning—had been wounded by those he trusted worse than she had. His own parents had betrayed him, abandoned him. How had he seemed so flawless before? He was vulnerable, now, as he sat there staring out the window. He was in pain and all Valie could think of was how she wished she could take it away. She knew what it was like to feel unwanted—Alden had made sure of that—but to have your family run away from you, to have your loved ones fear you and leave you without a second thought. . .She couldn’t imagine that.

“Say something,” Jack whispered. He still didn’t look at her.

Valie closed her open mouth. She didn’t know what she could say.

Jack looked at her with sorrowful eyes. He was no longer distant or cold or angry or withdrawn. He was openly frayed. Valie understood. He was remembering that feeling of the ground racing out from under your feet. It’s how she had felt for the past three days. She was almost used to it now, that falling sensation.

Jack shook his head, trying to suppress those horrendous memories and his old feeling of helplessness. This girl needed him now, not his ghosts.

“Enough of that for now.
You need to prepare yourself for tonight.”

She picked up on the wolf-boy’s attempt at normalcy. If he wanted to get over their conversation, she could help. It was easy, actually, since she had no idea what he was talking about—again.

“Prepare myself to do what?”

“To really start learning on your feet.”

BUILDING HISTORY

The rain spattered loudly on the front of the car, ran down its sides and—at least, on the left side—emptied into Valie’s waiting, open window.

“Remind me again why you have to keep your window open?” Shane demanded as she flung her hood up to protect her newly-curled hair from the moisture and wind. Valie didn’t have to worry about her tied hair or her nonexistent make-up like the she-wolf did.

The freezing girl rolled her eyes and didn’t respond. She’d already explained that she would pass out from hyperventilating if the windows were closed—
multiple
times, in fact. Shane was just being obnoxious, now.

“Don’t you think she’s been unconscious in this car enough?” Noah asked in a good-humored way.

Shane did not offer any reply other than a small smile to herself that made Valie wonder if the answer was ‘no.’

“So we’re going to a Vampyre club?” Valie asked, directing the question at Jack. The boy had barely spoken since their conversation earlier making Valie almost regret having asked about his past.

Jack still did not respond. It was Noah who began to answer, “A friend of ours, Max—“

“The Vampyre that owns the strangely normal-looking house we’re staying in,” Valie interjected.

“Yes. Well, she owns a club not too far away. When we came back to Seattle with you, she knew something was up and wanted an explanation. That’s where we’re going, first. She might be useful to us.”

Jack glanced back at Valie’s worried expression in the rearview mirror, but said nothing.

“She’s harmless,” Shane assured Valie. “Don’t worry about Max.”

“But she’s not going to be the only Vampyre there, is she?” An affirmative silence filled the car so that the only noise heard was the wind and the rain coming through Valie’s window. “That’s what I thought,” she muttered grimly. “Will there be other werewolves there?”

Jack could tell Valie was getting tenser by the minute as the rain blowing in her opened window made her teeth chatter.

“Lycanthropes rarely frequent the place,” he replied, finally speaking. “But sometimes the rest of our clan that live up here will come in for a drink . . . .”

“. . . or to stir up a fight,” Shane cut in grudgingly.

Jack shrugged. “Those are really the only two choices. We were destined to hate each other.”

“How can you be destined to hate each other when you’re both skirting around the edges of humanity? Shouldn’t that be something that would bring all of the Occult together?”

“The Occult world isn’t like a school club or fraternity, sweets. We don’t run across each other, perform some ridiculous handshake and talk about the good old days. Most Lycans do not
get along with each
other,
much less Vampyres. You had cliques at Anders High, right? Think of Vampyres as the elitists, the ones who think they are better than everyone else because of their clothes or money or future expensive educations.”

Noah turned in his seat to look behind him at Shane. “Should I be taking offense at that?”

Shane laughed and smiled affectionately at the boy. “Noah, you may have a lot of money at your disposal, but you as an elitist? No. Never.”

“
Anyway
,” Jack grunted. “Now, think of Craftsmen as the computer nerds—they aren’t popular, but their futures are pretty secure because of their skills. Lycanthopes, on the other hand, have to work for their success, moreso than Vampyres or Craftsmen. We’re like the jocks of the Occult world as we rely on our physicality, training and teamwork.”

“I never liked sports,” Valie muttered, but she continued with her questioning. “How did it all start? Where did all of…
this
come from?”

“Do you ever run out of questions?” Jack asked, though he sounded more pleased than irritated.

“Not when I’m learning about a universe that didn’t previously exist for me, a universe that now wants me dead,” Valie said in a matter-of-fact tone. Her frustration with Jack was slowly numbing. Her guardians were becoming increasingly important to her; she would just have to control her feelings toward Jack, keep them in check. Sure she wished she could be a normal teenager with a crush on the bad boy at school, but the fact of the matter was, she was different and so was Jack.

“Very few Lycans know about the history of the Occult before the Revolution, so exactly how Vampyres originated isn’t common knowledge. From what I’ve heard, as soon as their existence was known to the Fey,—the master race of the Occult, from which all magick that now exists in the world originated—the Faeries tried to include them in their society. But you see, Faeries worship life and, given the Vampyres’ dependence on blood and their general refusal to attempt to live any other way, the Fey found it impossible to assimilate them into their world. With the use of their magick, the Fey banished the Vampyres to the night, limiting the damage the blood-suckers could bring to an already chaotic world. The
Faeries who had lost respect for the Earth and its life, became Dark Fey as they took to the night along with the Vampyres.”

“Original name, we know,” Shane said in a bored voice. She’d obviously heard the story before. “Nighttime.
Dark. Dark Fey. Super creative.”

Valie’s brow furrowed. “Alright, so there are Faeries and Dark Faeries, but you’d told me before they aren’t really around anymore. We don’t really know how the Vampyres came to be, just why they are the way they are now. How did Lycanthropes originate? Or do we not know that either?”

Jack, surprised at Valie’s use of the word ‘we’, fumbled in his thoughts before speaking: “Er, well, Lycans typically believe that we used to be Fey, but they never claimed us because we were used by the Vampyres for so long to hunt them down.”

“Wait, wait,
wait. We
hunted
them?”

“Yes. The Vamps were bitter about their nighttime exile and so once they got their cold, dead hands on us, they trained us and. . .well, I
guess. . .
bred
us to track and kill members of the Fey. That’s why we’re still a very isolated species in the Occult world. Many blame us for why the Fey disappeared.”

Valie nodded.
Of course,
she thought.
We either betrayed or killed anyone who could possibly have connected with us.

Something tucked under the seat in front of her caught Valie’s eye as they passed under the glow of multiple streetlamps. It was the second brown paper package Jack had received at Borken’s shop back in Anders. 

“Do I need to use this?” She held up the package for Jack to glance at.

He frowned. Valie eating the conspectus root would be just another step toward complete emersion in the Occult world. But it was unavoidable. She had to really see to understand.

Reluctantly, Jack nodded.

“What is that?” Shane quizzed Jack.

“Some conspectus root we bought from Borken in California.  She’s one of the Blind.”

“Geez, didn’t you get any useful genes from Isaac’s side of the family?” Shane asked flippantly.

Jack almost turned fully around in his seat with a look on his face that would absolutely wither most people—except Shane. Truly, she was one big-mouthed, insensitive girl. From the front passenger seat, Noah politely guided the swerving car back onto the road.

“Uh, Jack . . . ,” Valie murmured, hinting for him to watch
where he was going. The angry Lycan glared at both unhappy girls before turning back to the road.

“Eat it,” Jack ordered as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. “We’re almost there.”

Valie opened the paper wrapping carefully to find circular segments of a plant root with much the same consistency of a potato. She placed a slice in her mouth and gagged; it tasted like curdled milk with a hint of mustard. It was revolting.

Jack anticipated her reaction, and said without looking in the rearview mirror, “You have to swallow it, sweets.”

Valie chewed forcibly and, holding her nose, fought her reflexes and swallowed. She did not think the battle was won, however. Instinctively, she hung her head out of the window, ready to puke.

Weakly, she beseeched, “Please tell me I don’t have to eat all of this.”

Jack chuckled as he pulled into a dimly lit parking lot. “No. Borken apportioned it properly. Each piece should affect you for about a week.”

“I’d rather be bitten by a werewolf,” Valie said, with real conviction. Jack chuckled as he pulled the BMW into one of the only parking spaces. 

“Here we are,” Shane announced jauntily, bouncing out of the vehicle. Valie glanced at the cement wall she was pointing to. A flashing sign read “Heart & Veins” in neon red lettering. Idly, the girl wondered if she would be able to see the sign if she hadn’t eaten that disgusting root.

Valie’s teeth began to chatter again as the blood in her own veins ran ice-cold. “I have a feeling I’m not going to like this place,” she stuttered.

Anticipating some fun for a change, Shane laughed as if some great weight had been lifted off of her.

“Don’t be silly. This’ll be the best time you’ve ever had!” the she-wolf called out as she bounded ahead to a flight of stairs which apparently led below street level to an underground door. Even Noah was smiling now, and followed Shane into the stairwell. Jack brought up the rear, with Valie tentatively trailing a step behind. 

“You’ll be fine, sweets,” he reassured her. As long as she was worried, he would try not to let on that he, too, thought this was a bad idea. Casually, Jack took her hand to help her down the stairs; but, after noticing how frigid her skin was, held on tighter, even after they’d reached the steel door where a bouncer stood in front of the others.

Valie barely noticed Jack’s hand holding hers. Instead, the bouncer captured her full attention, as she stared at him with wide, wondrous eyes. His physique was human enough, other than being hulk-like—like some super wrestle only bigger and taller. But the head of this was something else entirely! Four twisting horns protruded out of the top of his head, going in every direction and two heavily pierced ears hung down to his broad shoulders. Valie had no doubt in her mind that this brute could take down a dozen Jacks or Elizas or Terrences if and when he so chose. Was she really supposed to feel safe here?

“He’s one of the many different kinds of Fey-born,” Jack explained in a muted whisper.

Valie just nodded, unable to speak in the monster’s presence.

“Password,” the bouncer rumbled deeply.

“Oh, come on, Bale. You know us,” Shane declared with some exasperation.

“Not
all
of you,” the hulk growled, looking severely at Valie. The girl began to tremble and was grateful for Jack’s encouragement as he squeezed her hand.

“She’s with us,” Jack asserted.

Bale glanced Valie up and down, making Jack hold his breath as well.

After another tense moment, Bale grudgingly nodded assent.
“Very well.” He pounded on the entrance deliberately three times. With a heavy creak, the steel door opened. They were assaulted with the sounds of music and laughter, banter,
clink
s and
clang
s, shouts and shrieks and swearing. 

“Have a good time,” the beast politely rumbled.

“As always,” the eager Shane responded as she swirled into the club and disappeared. 

“You ready?” Jack asked Valie before he led her into the
club.

She nodded with more confidence than she had imagined possible. “Let’s do this.”

And with that, they, too, entered her new world.

Heart and Veins
was an industrial-sized underground room with a bar on the far wall running almost the entire length of the long, narrow room. Hundreds of bottles lined the shelves behind the bar, the contents of various hues. Heavy wooden tables and chairs were arranged throughout the room, except for the far end, which had a stage, empty at the moment, with a bright red curtain drawn. 

As they wandered deeper into the room, Valie found herself constantly averting her eyes, trying not to stare, while holding her breath, trying not to gasp. No one looked quite like Bale, who stood outside like an unmovable statue, but Valie could see the strange additions to the human-like forms, the most common of which was bright, crimson-red eyes that seemed to drink in her appearance as she clung to Jack’s arm.

“Are they all—“ She broke off before she could say ‘Vampyres,’ because nearby gazes snapped toward her as if those to whom the gazes belonged were listening in.

“Most are. The ones you see
with. . .
other
features, like Bale’s, are what we call Fey-born. They are unique with no real ties to any nation. Some serve Dark Fey, but even Dark Fey are rare nowadays.”

The wolf-boy’s explanation was cut off by a huge, friendly slap on the shoulder, which startled them both. 

“Hey! Look guys! Jack’s back!”

Valie peered over Jack’s protective shoulder to find Santa Claus smiling genially at Jack—and that’s exactly who he looked like. Feeling Jack relax, Valie smiled, too. Maybe this
was
Santa. 

“Hello, Sam,” Jack greeted the older man amiably, with a solid handshake thrown in for good measure. A group of younger men sat at a large table behind Sam. As he and Jack shook hands, the group quickly glanced at one another, but then added to the light atmosphere with laughter and banter directed at the young Lycan whose appearance at the club seemed to
surprise them.

“Where
is
our fearless leader, son?” Sam asked in a friendly tone.

“Is he here with you tonight?” another asked. He had a dark brown beard much longer than Sam’s. “Come to join us old codgers for a night or two?”

Valie looked quizzically at the man who had spoken, wondering just how old the men in the group could really be.

Jack folded his arms across his chest and smiled at the group in feigned relaxation.
“Ummm . . . no. We got sent back early and I just stopped by with Shane and Noah to catch up with some old friends, a purely recreational visit. How are things in the pack these days? You miss seeing us around?”

Valie oddly pictured her new companions in a sort of strange dormitory with men and women of all ages laughing roughly and counting down the days to the full moon while throwing darts at pictures of Vampyres. What exactly did werewolves
do
with their spare time—the time
not
spent tracking and changing people into monsters?

For an instant, a shadow flitted across Sam’s hospitable features. “Isaac’s not coming up? Isn’t he back yet?” he inquired softly—was it warily?

Jack shook his head and tensed slightly. He leaned back against Valie as a solid presence and shield.

He’d slipped up—forgotten, for the moment, about the Council meeting set for later in the week. Of course Isaac was expected to be here, too, to help prepare for such an important event. A visit from the Elders, especially at the time of the Interlunar Council meeting, was seen as an honorable event, worthy of celebration and crucial preparation. The pack leader of the region was seen as an indispensable part of such preparation. Isaac’s absence at such a time was more than strange; it was suspicious.

A sudden wave of remorse washed over Jack. He liked the old wolves and he regretted what they would soon learn about Isaac’s transgression and Jack’s own betrayal.